


I Surrender Who I've Been For Who You Are

by Madalynn_Bohemia



Series: Love Hunt Me Down [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Derek is a worried wreck, Hormones make Stiles emotional, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Mpreg, Self-Lubrication, Sex, Stiles' body is changing, The family is super supportive, Violence, Weird Symptoms, Werewolves, part four, stiles is pregnant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:37:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madalynn_Bohemia/pseuds/Madalynn_Bohemia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe and Part Four in the Love Hunt Me Down Series:</p><p>Stiles has been acting bizarre lately. He's been eating a lot of rare-cooked meat. Sleeping more, getting sick in the mornings...but it's nothing abnormal. He probably just caught a bug or something. I mean, it's not like he's pregnant...</p><p>Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Surrender Who I've Been For Who You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "Turning Page" by Sleeping at Last
> 
> Oh my, I can't believe I actually finished this beast. I've been so crazy busy lately and all I wanna do is come home and write, but the world has not been kind. After staying up several late nights in a row...it is done. However the sleep deprivation might have affected the quality of the story, so be sure to tell me what you think, m'kay? Happy reading.

            It starts when he’s twenty-one, and Stiles should really be used to nothing in his life _ever_ going according to plan. He sees Derek with his family, laughing and playing with his nieces and cousins, witnessing the longing in his eyes when he thinks no one is looking. Derek’s desire for a family of his own is palpable, and suddenly; maybe for the first time ever, Stiles begins to want.

 

            He wants to give Derek children. He wants to _have_ Derek’s children and with this realization something inside of him begins to shift. It’s only a momentary thought, but it’s enough. A door is opened and with it comes a whole new range of possibilities.

 

            “Come on!” Stiles demands, dragging Derek away from the little ones to push him over the threshold of his old room inside the Hale house. Stiles can’t stand to see the small look of sadness at his brow, and he needs to replace it with something he can cope with. Derek allows himself to be pulled, smiling at Stiles’ rushing insistence.

 

            “What’s the big hurry?” He asks with a smug grin on his face, smelling Stiles’ arousal as easily as if he were wearing a flashing neon sign. 

 

            “You know why, now take your fucking clothes off.”

 

            Derek does not argue with this command.

 

* * *

 

 

            It is the beginning of summer, and Stiles is on break from university for a few months. He attends school nearby, unable to be away from Derek for too long. He doesn’t mind though, and living with Derek is kind of incentive enough. 

 

            Stiles’ body is still on a schedule and he can’t help waking up at the ass crack of dawn. His stomach growls, and he’s so fucking hungry he could eat a whole herd of some unfortunate animal or another.

 

            “What are you doing?” Derek asks with an odd look, pointedly eyeing the half-eaten plate in Stiles’ hand. Stiles frowns.

 

            “I’m eating. What’s it look like I’m doing?”

 

            “You’re eating venison. _My_ venison.”

 

            “Yeah, so? I’ll get you more.” Stiles huffs indignantly through a mouthful of juicy meat. 

 

            Derek shakes his head. “Stiles, you _hate_ venison. For as long as I’ve known you you’ve refused to eat it.”

 

            Stiles shrugs. “Taste buds can change you know.” He mutters, shoving more pieces of rare-cooked meat into his mouth. Derek raises two finely shaped brows at him before smiling.

 

            “Eat as much as you want.” He concedes, leaning in to kiss Stiles on the forehead. Stiles allows it, and watches as Derek goes to work. 

 

            He eats all the venison in the house, and doesn’t find it odd that he craves more. 

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles begins to notice that he is fast becoming sensitive to certain smells. The loft smells like him and Derek, and Derek smells like the rain-soaked earth mixed in with burning cedar wood, and _that_ smells like home. Derek’s presence; whether it’s the scent of him, the books left stacked up in piles by their bed or the sound of his voice, helps contribute to make Stiles feel at ease.

 

            But there are other smells as well. Ones that are not as good. The smell of chicken cooking makes him feel dizzy, and acid begins to bubble at the back of his throat whenever he’s near it. Which is weird, because he’s always liked chicken.

 

            The fragrance of tires against tarmac, heat making the air muggy with the smell of burnt rubber and spilt gasoline makes his nose twitch in irritation. People are beginning to unnerve him as well. The sweat over each individual’s natural aroma is almost too much for his nostrils to take. 

 

             Outside there is a stench that is unpredictable, like fear, desperation, and anxiety. It smells dangerous every time he moves to leave the loft, multiple warning alarms echoing in his head whenever he attempts it. He begins to stay inside more, and ventures out less and less. It’s not strange, he just feels safer at home, and even better if Derek is there with him.

 

            “What are you doing?” Derek asks one night when they’re cuddling on the couch, and Stiles fights off the urge to sigh. He’s been sounding an awful lot like a broken record lately with how much he asks that question these days. 

 

            “I’m loving you.” Stiles whispers against his mate’s throat, and Derek presents himself, making it easier for Stiles to have access.

 

            “No,” Derek denies, a small whimper escaping. “you’re _scenting_ me.”

 

            Stiles looks up at him from his spot just along the older man’s collarbone. He looks almost guilty, because he has indeed been smelling him.

 

            “You smell good.” He says absently, allowing that particular aroma of _home, safe, loved, mate, Derek_ \- to wash over him. 

 

            Stiles continues to make his way all along Derek’s thrumming body, gasping when he sniffs around Derek’s aching arousal. The smell is almost overwhelming here. Musky, male, and excited. Distantly, he wonders when he started to be able to distinguish the difference between them all.

 

* * *

 

 

            When Stiles actually leaves the loft out of necessity and goes in to see Doctor Carson for his routine check-up, he freaks out. All Carson does is get a little too close; the way doctors have to do, and puts a steadying hand on his shoulder.

 

            Stiles bolts off the table, shoving himself into a corner to minimalize any openings for attack. 

 

            “I’m sorry.” He stuttered, completely shocked over his reaction. He shoved away from the wall, calling out that he had somewhere he had to be as he ran from the office. Stiles sat in his jeep for nearly ten minutes and tried to breathe. His heart rate wouldn’t slow and his hands refused to stop shaking. He was almost drifting in thought when his phone rang.

 

            Derek’s name flashed on the screen. 

 

            “Hello?” Stiles answered weakly.

 

            “Where are you?” Derek demanded. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

 

            “I’m at the doctor’s office, and I think I’m having a panic attack.” Stiles wheezed. “Can you come get me?” 

 

            “I’ll be there in five.” Derek growled, and even over the phone Stiles could feel his possessive need to protect. To make sure his mate was alright. 

 

            Stiles felt like barely a minute had passed when Derek was suddenly there, opening the jeep’s door and pulling him gently out, wrapping him up in two strong arms.

 

            Stiles sinks into the embrace, holding on as if his life depends on it. It is almost an instantaneous reaction. As soon as they make physical contact, he begins to calm. His heart rate goes back to normal, his muscles unclench and he finally starts to relax.

 

            “Wow.” Stiles whispers into Derek’s shirt-covered chest. “How do you do that? How can you make me feel better just by being here?”

 

            Derek does not answer and instead asks a question of his own.

 

            “What happened? Did someone hurt you? Threaten you-“

 

            “Nothing like that.” Stiles says, raising his eyes to look sheepishly up at his mate. “I’m not sure why…I just…flipped out for no good reason.”

 

            “What scared you?” Derek asked, trying to understand, and Stiles sighed.

 

            “It wasn’t that I was scared…the doctor just put his hand here.” Stiles proceeded to place Derek’s own hand on his shoulder, almost where his scar from Derek’s teeth rested. “It didn’t scare me…I just didn’t like it. It felt…”

 

            “Like he shouldn’t be touching you? Like he wasn’t allowed?”

 

            Stiles nodded even though Derek was being a complete wolf about it. The whole _you are mine, I am yours, no one else can have you but me_ routine. Stiles kind of liked that routine. And Derek _was_ right.

 

            “Maybe it’s because I don’t know him that well.” Stiles blurted, thinking about all the times his dad gave him a hug, or how Peter gripped him by the neck when he was being a spaz.

 

            “Could be.” Derek murmured, not sounding convinced. “Come on. I’m taking the rest of the day off and we’re going home.”

 

            “You really don’t have to-“

 

            Stiles stopped when Derek gave him a look that plainly said, ‘ _you can go ahead and keep talking but it’s still not gonna change a damn thing_.’ 

 

            “I’ll just get in my jeep then…”

 

            “I’ll be right behind you making sure you’re alright.” 

 

            Stiles nodded as he watched Derek head back to his car.

 

            “I mean it!” He shouted over his shoulder. “I’m gonna be on your ass, so no sudden stops, got it?”

            

            Stiles grinned and said to himself, “I like the sound of you on my ass.” Before getting into the jeep, knowing that Derek would hear him perfectly clear. Stiles watched as his mate nearly banged his head on the top of his car as he slid in. 

 

            He was laughing at the glare Derek shot his way, turning the key and starting up the engine. Stiles felt completely normal now.

 

* * *

 

 

            A few days later, Stiles found himself agreeing to go with Scott to shop around for Allison’s birthday. But once he got outside he absolutely despised it. His nose was being assaulted by food vendors, and people kept almost bumping into him, making him exercise a lot of effort into keeping physical contact at a non-existent level.

 

            “What’s with you today, man?” Scott demanded, eyeing his best friend in strange fascination. “You’re quiet. You! _Quiet_! And you look like you’re terrified of germs or something.”

 

            Stiles shrugged. “I just…haven’t been around a crowd like this since school. I’m trying to get used to it again that’s all. It’s a lot to take in.” He lied, but Scott let it go.

 

            “So are you and Derek going to come to Allison’s birthday party?” Scott asked with a hopeful smile, changing the subject and putting Stiles at ease. 

 

            “I don’t know about Derek, but I’ll definitely be there.” Stiles promised, grinning at the joy on Scott’s face.

 

            “That’s why I love you, man.” Scott joked, moving in to put his arm over Stiles’ shoulders.

 

            Stiles panicked again, and just barely managed to duck into a shop before Scott could make physical contact with him.

 

            “I think Allison would like something from here.” He stammered and high-tailed it inside. Scott didn’t look offended or insulted. He probably thought it was just Stiles being Stiles.

 

            But something was definitely wrong. Freaking out over a doctor you barely know trying to touch you is one thing. But almost losing his shit when _Scott_ got close was another! He’d known Scott nearly all his life. There was no reason for him to have this kind of reaction!

 

            Stiles was a firm believer in ignoring a problem until it went away, and that is what he was going to do…no matter how scared he was.

 

* * *

 

 

            It’s one o’clock in the afternoon on a Saturday when Derek wakes Stiles up.

 

            “Why are you so tired?” He asks once Stiles blinks blurry golden-brown eyes open. He shrugs sleepily and tries to burrow back into the covers, but Derek won’t let him. 

 

            “Last night you passed out around ten. That’s fourteen hours of sleep, Stiles.” The younger man groans and buries his head deeper into his pillow. 

 

            “It’s summer vacation.” He mumbles into the fabric, as if that’s a good enough excuse.

 

            “Why don’t we go out? Do something fun?” Derek suggests off-handedly, but Stiles knows he’s only saying that because he’s noticed. How could he not? He barely _ever_ leaves the loft anymore. It would be almost impossible _not_ to notice. Stiles bats the idea away, and makes the effort to sit up, pulling on the front of Derek’s jeans until the older man drops onto the mattress next to him.

 

            “How about… _you_ stay inside with me?” He yanks Derek down, pushing him onto his back so he can fit himself along his side, and Derek’s arms wrap around him, reinforcing that safe feeling he craves.

 

            He falls back to sleep instantly. 

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles doesn’t like to think of himself as needy. Yeah, he loves Derek, and he’s always happy to see him, but needy and clingy he is not. Only _now_ , he is.

 

            He’s never felt constantly on edge, anxiety only leaving once Derek comes home from the publisher’s office. Muscles no longer tense and bunched up as soon as he walks through the door. He’s never craved affection or the need for validation like this. It’s not like him at all, and not for the first time does he begin to wonder if he’s slowly losing his mind.

 

            Derek doesn’t seem troubled by his need for physical contact. Derek seems to like it, always eager and ready to drop everything and wrap Stiles up in his arms, or cuddle with him on the couch or in bed. Stiles’ head bumps up under Derek’s jaw, listening when the wolf in him gives a rumbling hum of approval. 

 

            Their hands paw at each other, pushing fabric aside to get to skin. It’s not about sex, it’s just about intimacy and affection. Derek seems to understand this without Stiles needing to explain, and he falls even more in love with the man, not knowing that was even possible when he already loves Derek with everything he has…

 

* * *

 

 

           An omega comes looking for Derek, but not to join the Hale pack. His goal is of a more sinister nature. He wants to destroy it. He targets Talia by going after Derek, and he targets Derek by going after Stiles.

 

            When the loft’s door is beaten in Stiles panics. His haven is no longer safe, and Derek won’t be home for several more hours. There is only one exit besides the front, and that’s to the roof. It isn’t much of an option and hiding isn’t an option at all. Werewolf senses are too strong and his thundering heartbeat would only give him away. Stiles could never be accused of having an abundance of self-preservation, but he’s not an idiot. He knows that he can’t take the omega.

 

            Yet he stands his ground regardless, and when the door finally does come crashing down, and the other wolf steps over the threshold invading _their_ territory, Stiles lets out a snarling growl. He’s almost too shocked over his own behavior to continue, but the omega keeps coming and the growl turns into a rumbling roar.

 

            “Look what we have here.” The wolf grins, kicking over the coffee table in his path. “The pup thinks he has teeth.” 

 

            Stiles doesn’t have teeth. He doesn’t even have claws and yet he’s nearly foaming at the mouth with the urge to attack. To defend. To _protect_.

 

            The omega gets closer and he’s going to be torn to pieces. Derek is going to find him broken and bloody and it’s going to _kill him_ …

 

            But then Stiles hears an enraged howl and the form of Derek’s wolf comes stalking in. Talia had been right in her assumption that Derek had the ability to shift just as she could, and had set about teaching him how almost two years ago. Stiles loves his animal form. He’s big and black, soft fur sticking up along his spine as he lowers his head to bare his fangs menacingly at the intruder. His glowing blue eyes shift in color, ranging from ice blue, to aquamarine and going as deep as sapphire. 

 

            Stiles is still in awe each time he sees him like this, and he can’t help but feel proud when the omega shrinks back in fear. Derek doesn’t bother restraining himself, and he holds no mercy for someone who threatens his family. _His mate_.

 

            Stiles hides in a corner as the two werewolves clash together, arms crossing over his stomach. It’s almost strange, because he’s never hidden like this before. He chalks it up to nerves and listens with anxiousness as the sounds of the struggle reach him. A gurgling crushing noise echoes throughout the loft before there is complete silence, signaling the fight’s abrupt end.

 

            Stiles tenses when he hears approaching footsteps, but he picks up the sound of paws loping gracefully towards him, the wolf’s nails clicking against the hardwood floor. A furry muzzle nudges into the side of his covered face, reaching skin to give a reassuring lick. Stiles turns into Derek, allowing the wolf to fret over him as he sniffs and whines, smelling Stiles’ distress but finding no injury. 

 

            Derek changes back, naked and panting in front of him, eyes back to forest-green and frantic with concern.

 

            “Stiles.” He whispers, pulling his mate to him in a strong but gentle grip. “Are you okay?” He demands, not pausing in his questions or his search of Stiles’ body. “Did he hurt you?”

 

            “M’fine.” Stiles mumbled, not really looking at anything so much as looking through it.

 

            “ _Stiles_!” Derek demands, grabbing his cheeks and forcing their eyes to meet.

 

            “How did you know?” Stiles asks breathless, and Derek looks almost disappointed with himself.

 

            “I could smell him when I got to work. It wasn’t until I started to track it that I realized what his endgame was.”

 

            “Me?”

 

            Derek nodded solemnly, hands touching Stiles anywhere he could reach and Stiles melted into his embrace.

 

            “Come on.” Derek whispered, easing Stiles up onto shaking legs. “You’re staying at my mother’s. It’ll be safer there with the rest of the pack, at least until I can fortify this place better.”

 

            “Where will you be?” Stiles asked, suddenly panicking over the idea of being separated.

 

            “Shh.” Derek soothed, pulling Stiles deeper into him. “I’m just going to stay and clean this up.”

 

            Stiles was shaking, heart hammering in his ears, feeling suddenly dizzy and lightheaded.

 

            “Okay. Okay love, I’ll stay with you. It’s okay. I’ll get Peter to come down and take care of it.” Derek promised, rubbing up and down over Stiles’ back in an attempt to soothe. Stiles relaxed gradually, and Derek pulled away to look in his wide eyes. 

 

            “Let’s pack some things.” 

 

            They walked carefully over the broken furniture, Derek lifting Stiles up over the body of the wolf and his spilled blood. Stiles looked at the intruder, eyeing the deep gash in his throat and the bite marks all over his skin. 

            

“I growled at him.” He admitted softly, staring at the mutilated corpse. “It was almost instinctual…”

            

“Don’t look, Stiles.” Derek pleaded, and he turned away gratefully. Derek only released him in order to put some of their belongings in an overnight bag while Stiles stood rooted to the spot, unaware that he had been clutching his stomach protectively the entire time.   

 

* * *

 

 

            The other wolves at the Hale house fretted over Stiles, but from a distance, respecting Derek’s right to comfort his mate alone. Stiles endured the attention from all of them while Derek lavished him with long, easy licks and gentle bites. 

 

            “Will there be more?” Talia had asked gravely, Theoderek a steady and quiet presence at her side. 

 

            “He was an omega.” Derek rumbled into Stiles’ jaw and Talia nodded in understanding.

 

            “You two will stay here for a while. At least until we know it’s safe.”

 

            Neither of them argued, and Stiles tried not to have an inappropriate reaction while Derek continued to groom him meticulously. 

 

            Peter disrupted the sudden quiet by barging in with blood all over him, eyes flashing blue and chest heaving with exertion.

 

            “Next time you wanna call me in for the dirty jobs…don’t.” He grumbled, licking his lips. But it was all bluster. Even Stiles could tell he’d enjoyed himself. Peter muttered his way towards the nearest shower and Salina followed him with an amused grin.

 

            Derek had Stiles’ left arm held in his hands, nose sniffing at his inner elbow while his tongue snaked out to taste. Stiles was at the end of his rope.

 

            “Can we go upstairs?” He suddenly asked, needing to touch his mate as well, but not thrilled about the audience. “I’m kind of tired.” 

 

            Derek nodded mutely, lifting Stiles into his arms and carrying him towards his old room. Stiles tried to wave an awkward farewell to the rest of the family but Derek turned the corner quickly so the other wolves were out of view. 

 

            They didn’t speak until they were safely in Derek’s room with the door closed, and Stiles was being placed gently in the center of the bed.

 

            “Do you think we’re really safe?” He asked on a whisper, worry creeping up on him. 

 

            “I never want to think when it comes to you.” Derek answered with conviction. “I need to know. I need to be sure that you’ll be safe. Always.”

 

            “Hey.” Stiles said softly, urging Derek closer with his hands, eyes, and body. Derek crawled in next to him, and Stiles could practically feel the guilt washing off of him in waves.

 

            “None of this was your fault.” Stiles said, meeting Derek’s gaze without hesitation. “You got there in time. I’m okay.”

 

            “But what if I hadn’t made it?” Derek whispered, eyes looking away at something only he could see. “What if I hadn’t caught the omega’s scent, and you were hurt because of me, or worse-“

 

            Derek’s voice broke off at the end, and Stiles set about soothing him. “You can’t focus on what ifs. Everything is fine now, try to fixate on that.”

 

            “And what about next time?”

 

            “My dad taught me how to shoot. Get me a gun and we’ll lace the bullets with wolfsbane.”

 

            Derek looked at him with a flash of awe before he was kissing Stiles deeply. “God I love you.” He whispered, pulling Stiles in even closer. 

 

            A pleased rumble echoed throughout Stiles’ body at the attention and he quivered in Derek’s arms. 

 

            “I need you.” Stiles whispered huskily, tugging at the front of Derek’s jeans, feeling Derek’s growl vibrating through the skin of his abdomen. Clothes were torn off, as it was too much of an effort for Derek to be gentle with fabric right now. Stiles didn’t mind, arching into the feel of Derek’s claws skimming carefully along his creamy white skin.

 

            Derek traveled slowly down Stiles’ body, lavishing attention to pink dusty nipples, holding them captive between his teeth before soothing them over with his tongue. Stiles cried out in abandon as Derek moved further down, circling his navel and tugging on the trail of hair just beneath. Stiles whimpered in the back of his throat while Derek mouthed at his stomach before continuing on.

 

            His cock was engulfed in warm heat and he was keening, arching up into the brilliant sensation and trying to get more. Derek only swallowed around him a handful of times before he was pulling off, and Stiles’ pleasured-whine turned into one of disappointment. But then Derek was mouthing at his balls, playing with the sensitive stretch of skin just behind and going further…

 

            “Derek!” Stiles cried in an almost warning as he felt his mate’s hot breath at his opening. The wolf didn’t pause to answer, and instead dove straight in, tongue pressing flat against the rim before giving it a swirling lick. Stiles thrust back against him, trying to take him inside, but Derek had other plans. He sealed his mouth over the quivering hole and sucked.

 

            “Oh fuck!” Stiles sobbed, clutching onto the bed sheets before his hands gripped Derek’s shoulders in a firm grip. Derek devoured him. Tongue wriggling into his mate’s leaking entrance until he was fully inside. Stiles was always so slick and wet for him.

 

            He cried out when Derek began to hum at his rim, making the vibrations enter his body as the overwhelming pleasure scrambled his mind. A finger joined the wicked tongue and Stiles couldn’t stop his body’s reaction. He was shoving back eagerly against Derek’s face, chasing his orgasm. But then Derek was taking his talented tongue and finger away, pushing up to look into Stiles’ eyes.

 

            “I can’t wait, love.” He whispered, shoving three fingers at once into Stiles’ trembling body. “Need you to come for me now. Need to get you loose.” Stiles’ mouth dropped in a silent ‘O’ as Derek’s three fingers began to fuck into him in earnest, indeed making his passage loose and slippery. His eyes wanted to roll back into his head, but he forced himself to watch Derek as he watched him.

 

            “I want you to come.” Derek almost begged, leaning down to hover over Stiles’ aching erection. “Wanna taste it.”

 

            Stiles arched up, his orgasm taking him by surprise as his dick jerked and released. A string of come coated Derek’s lips, and then the older man was sealing those same lips over the head of his cock, drinking down everything else he had to offer.

 

            “Oh my god.” Stiles kept whispering, body wracked with the overwhelming sensation of his pleasure. Derek’s fingers fucked him through it and his delicious mouth sucked him dry of everything he had to give. He continued to swallow around him, moving down to caress the base of his cock with a flicking tongue until he was getting hard inside his mouth again.

 

            It was like this each and every time, his body keyed up to go again until Derek was satisfied, and only then would he rest.

 

            Stiles watched as Derek’s sinful tongue licked away the remaining release off his lips.

 

            “Can’t wait anymore.” Derek was apologizing as he crawled up his body, settling in between trembling thighs and Stiles pulled his legs up high, resting them along Derek’s sides. 

 

            “Please.” He whispered, not ashamed of the need in his voice, whining when he felt the leaking head of Derek’s cock bumping against his rim. He lined himself up and slowly pushed inside.

 

            Stiles’ eyes were open wide, and he gazed into Derek’s matching look of awe as he bottomed out. It might sound cliché, but every time they did this, it was almost like the first time. 

            

            “You’re so tight.” Derek gritted, shifting his hips slightly so he could loosen his mate’s passage. Stiles hissed and his lids fluttered when that spot was nudged inside him. His hands gripped Derek’s ass and he pressed down hard, urging him deeper and further in.

 

            “Don’t want to hurt you.” Derek said in protest, but Stiles bit at his lip to keep him quiet tasting the lingering remains of his own release there.

 

            “Don’t want you to be gentle.” He admitted, and Derek growled low in his throat at what those words did to him. Stiles was constantly challenging him, and always surprising him. He wouldn’t change that about his mate for the world.

 

            “You asked for it.” Derek hissed, gripping Stiles’ hips in a hold that would leave fingerprint-shaped bruises. He pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back inside, both of them letting out moans of bliss. 

 

           “You’re always trying to push me over the edge, aren’t you?” Derek murmured into Stiles’ quivering Adam’s apple.

 

            “Always.” Stiles stuttered out on a breath. 

 

            “Maybe I should punish you for that.” Derek threatened, hips snapping quickly against Stiles’ ass.

 

            “Maybe I’d let you.” Stiles shot back and Derek growled in satisfaction as he picked up the pace. Stiles was leaking between them, and he could feel that he was close. So very close…

 

            Derek knew what he needed, mouth sealing over that particular spot on his shoulder, teeth pushing down until they broke through the skin of his continually reopened scar. Stiles screamed out a broken sob, coming untouched as Derek marked him and claimed him as his own. He came back to Derek thrusting wildly between his legs, chasing his own pleasure as he lapped at the blood leaking from Stiles’ skin.

 

            Stiles groaned in sensitivity just as his cock began to harden again and his prostate was brutally rammed into repeatedly. 

 

            “Derek.” Stiles whimpered, not at all afraid of the pure animalistic look in his lover’s eyes, glowing bright blue to reveal the wolf beneath. His fangs were fully extended and he let out a continuous growl of possession. Stiles felt his own teeth itch, as if yearning to latch onto something.

 

            To bite.

 

            To claim.

 

            He had never felt this need before. Was this how Derek felt each time they did this? Was this what it was like?

 

            Stiles tilted Derek’s head, forcing him to bare his throat. 

 

            To be vulnerable. 

 

            Derek whimpered at the forced submission, but he stayed still while Stiles leaned up, tongue tasting the sweat along the damp skin. Derek’s rhythm faltered and Stiles’ mouth opened wider, sealing over that spot where his pulse made itself known. His teeth scraped the skin teasingly, and Derek’s hips sped up, making Stiles moan against his flesh.

 

            He couldn’t hold back the urge anymore. He needed to…

 

            “Stiles?” Derek whined in shock as Stiles’ teeth pierced his skin, biting down almost savagely until blood gushed into his mouth and his mark was made. Even though Derek healed just as quickly, it was enough.

 

            Derek pounded into his mate, howling when his knot expanded and he released hotly into the willing body below.

 

            Stiles found his own orgasm, again, and promptly passed out in Derek’s arms.

 

            He awoke to an un-clawed hand combing through his sweat-slicked hair. 

 

            “That will never get old.” Stiles mumbled in sleepy contentment. 

 

            “Which part?” Derek asked amused. “All the sex, or the passing out?”

 

            “You.” Stiles answered. “The sex, the orgasms, the biting, the knotting and yes, even the passing out. All of it. I’ll never get tired of it.”

 

            “Good.” Derek rumbled in satisfaction, leaning down to place a soft kiss along each of Stiles’ closed eyelids. “Though there was something different this time.” 

 

            Stiles looked up at him in confusion and Derek rose both brows at him. “You bit me.” He informed patiently and Stiles shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

 

            “You’re always biting _me_. Thought I’d return the favor.”

 

            “Yeah, but it was more than just a whim you got during sex. It was intentional. Something wolves do so others know you’re claimed.”

 

            “And now others will know you’re mine.” Stiles said, sounding proud of himself. Derek let it go. Maybe it really was as simple as all that.

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles is beginning to feel like his emotions are on a constant rollercoaster. They’re still staying at the Hale house, and it isn’t long before he’s snapping at Derek, getting angry at him one night for taking too long to come home from work.

 

            “There was traffic.” Derek said, looking confused. 

 

            “That’s what you’re going with?” Stiles demanded. “Traffic?”

 

            “And I bought you more milk.” He added, holding up a paper bag which contained two full gallons of the stuff. “You drank the last of what was in the fridge. I also went to that supermarket downtown and bought you more venison, since you cleared out the last of your “secret” stash you think I don’t know about.”

 

            Stiles went from anger, to guilt before sinking into shame. Derek shoved the bags onto the counter before pulling him in close, wiping at the sudden tears leaking from his eyes. 

            

            “What’s wrong?” He begged, sounding lost and confused. It only made Stiles more upset.

 

            “I don’t know.” He said with a pitiful shrug. “This shit keeps happening.” 

 

            “What keeps happening?”

 

            “This!” Stiles said, pointing at the flowing water works as he tramped down his frustration, recalling what had happened with Derek’s youngest sister that day.

 

            “I was watching Lily play with a butterfly this morning right after you left and I just started balling like a baby!” Stiles sniffled into Derek’s shirt, dampening the material with his leaking eyes.

 

            “It’s okay.” Derek soothed, burying his face in Stiles hair before inhaling his scent. “You’re just stressed from what happened. Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see.”

 

            Stiles felt himself beginning to relax, hoping against everything that Derek was right. But he had been steadily changing for the past month and a half, even before the omega incident had occurred. He really was losing his mind…wasn’t he?

 

* * *

 

 

            Two weeks later they’re back in the loft again; which is sporting some hefty security upgrades, including alarms, weapons and outside perimeter cameras that feed directly into both Derek and Stiles’ cellphones, alerting them when someone breaches the entrance or gets too close to the building.

 

            Everything is fine, they are back into their normal routine…

 

            And then Stiles gets sick one morning. He bolts from bed and out of Derek’s arms, running to the bathroom with a hand over his mouth. He practically shoves his head in the toilet and proceeds to empty out everything in his stomach. 

 

            Derek is there instantly, rubbing his back soothingly as his body continues to convulse and expel acid while he dry heaves.

 

            Stiles clutches the bowl, sweat running down his back and forehead. The porcelain is cool against his skin, and for a second he just rests, hoping his stomach stays calm.

 

            “Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?” Derek asks softly behind him, and Stiles shakes his head. He actually doesn’t feel all that bad now. 

 

            “Think it was something I ate.” He offers up in explanation and Derek nods. 

 

            “You _have_ been eating a lot of rare-cooked meat lately.” He mutters. “Maybe you should cut back.”

 

            Stiles was _so_ not going to stop eating venison. Derek was just trying to hoard it all to himself.

 

            Derek gently wrapped a hand around his waist and pulled him up off the floor, holding him steady in his arms. Stiles endured the wolf’s thorough check as he made sure his mate was okay.

 

            “You’re burning up.” He whispered, hand covering his clammy forehead. “Come on.”

 

            Stiles was led to the shower, Derek making sure the water’s temperature was comfortable before he turned back to the younger man and started to systematically undress him. 

 

            When Stiles was divested of all clothing Derek undressed himself quickly and pulled them both under the spray. Derek handed Stiles his toothbrush and some toothpaste and Stiles gave him a grateful look before he brushed the hell out of his mouth. The sharp taste of bile in his throat was almost enough to make him want to throw up all over again. 

 

            Stiles continued to lather his mouth with toothpaste while Derek handled the rest. Washing his hair with shampoo and conditioner, soaping up his body with Derek’s body wash, so that he smelled like him. Stiles liked that, and had long since stopped using his own preferred brand of soap.

            

            “I feel better.” Stiles admitted absently, but Derek continued to take care of him, ushering him out of the shower and wiping him down softly with a towel. He grabbed Stiles a robe and put him to bed, disappearing to the kitchen to make him some soup and toast.

 

            Stiles drifted until he was woken up by Derek urging him to sit. 

 

            “You need to eat and drink something. I don’t want you to get dehydrated.” 

 

            Stiles accepted the bottle of water gratefully, taking in steady swallows of the liquid.

 

            “Try to eat.” Derek urged, and Stiles actually found that he had an appetite. He ate everything without trouble.

 

            “I feel fine.” Stiles reassured. “Maybe it was just a bug that passed.

 

            He could see the hope on Derek’s face that that’s all that it was, and not something more serious. 

 

            Derek still made him stay in bed all day, even though Stiles felt completely normal.

 

* * *

 

 

            Only the next morning, right after Derek left for work, Stiles’ head was right back in that toilet, puking up his soul.

 

            And the day after that. 

 

            And the day after that…

 

            Stiles refused to tell Derek because the man could worry like nobody’s business. He had seen him with that subtle look of fear on his face one too many times already, and it was all because of how bizarre he’d been acting lately. He was scheduling a secret trip to the doctor’s office, crossing his fingers that he could keep his composure this time. 

 

           Stiles had been compiling a list of his symptoms so he could be ready with any questions he might have for the doctor when he suddenly stopped and reread what he’d written down so far. 

 

            Weird cravings. Behavioral changes. Sensitive to smells. A sudden aversion towards certain foods he’d always liked. Exhaustion. Increased desire for affection. Distaste towards touch that wasn’t from Derek or family. Refusal to leave home. Mood swings. Sickness in the mornings-

 

            Getting sick in the morning…

 

            Morning sickness.

 

            “Oh my god!” Stiles yelled in the empty loft, eyes shooting down to his stomach in bewilderment.

 

            “Oh my _god_!” He shouted again for good measure. “He knocked me up!” 

 

             It wasn’t the most eloquent thing to say when finding out, and Stiles would eventually feel guilty after his panic attack ran its course.

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles made himself leave the loft and drove to the local shopping center, trying to find a drugstore where he’d least likely run into someone he knew. All his close friends and family knew about his relationship with Derek, so trying to explain away why he was buying a pregnancy test would be a bit of an awkward chore.

 

           The guy who rung him up gave him a sympathetic look, thinking what any sane person would be. (That he’d gotten his girlfriend pregnant.)

 

            If he only knew.

 

            He drove home in a bit of a daze, not stopping till he was closed and locked away safely in his bathroom. Stiles took a deep breath. Maybe he wasn’t…

 

            Maybe it was something _completely_ different and he was just being ridiculous.

            

            Yeah! That could be it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d overreacted, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

 

            Still…he did buy the test, so…might as well use it.

 

            It probably wouldn’t work anyways. He was a guy, and no matter how many times Derek attempted to explain this to him, it didn’t make the whole pregnancy thing any easier to understand. It’s not like he had massive amounts of human Chorionic Gonadotropin in his system…right?

 

            And yet, he had this feeling…

 

            Stiles gritted his teeth and pissed on the stupid stick. He sat on the lid of the toilet, eyeing the test on the bathroom counter while he waited the allotted time. A minute had never felt so long.

 

            The test beeped and Stiles scrambled to it, gripping the plastic so hard he could practically hear it creak in protest.

 

            Wait…what did all those complicated lines mean?

 

            The thing looked like a fucking etch-o-sketch.

 

            Stiles flipped through the directions, looking for a symbol key when he found the line descriptions. He looked at the test and then back at the pictures before he collapsed back down on the toilet lid.

 

            His hand instinctively went to his stomach while his head drifted in unknown seas.

 

            Stiles needed to tell Derek, so he didn’t have to drift alone…

 

* * *

 

 

            Derek barreled through the loft’s door, dropping his coat haphazardly in his trek towards his mate.

            

           “What happened?” He demanded in a frantic state, confused by the way Stiles was calmly looking at him.

 

            “You said it was an emergency. Are you okay? Did you get sick again? Are you hurt?”

 

            Stiles rose a brow, hands fitting over his hips as he stared Derek down.

 

            “I’m pregnant.” He announced clearly and steadily. Derek blinked, looking for all the world as if he’d suddenly lost the ability to understand the English language. Stiles watched as confusion, fright, hope, and anxiety flashed across his face in rapid succession.

 

            “Are you…Stiles, you’re… _you_ -“

 

            “I’m pregnant. Yes, I’m sure. Yes, I’m serious. _No_ , this is not a joke.”

 

            Derek blinked again and swallowed loudly.

 

            “How do you know?” He whispered, sounding on the verge of hyperventilating. Stiles actually blushed.

 

            “I took a pregnancy test.” He grumbled, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “I didn’t tell you, but I’ve been throwing up every morning for the past week. I was gonna go back to the doctors to see what was wrong with me, but I kind of figured it out on my own, so…I went out and bought that.” He motioned towards the crumpled up box in the trash that had a picture of a mother and a baby on it.

 

            “And you’re-“

 

            “Okay?” Stiles cut him off, raising both brows in disbelief. “Physically, I’m fine. But you promised me mid-twenties Derek! I’m twenty-one! I just became legal to drink, and now I _can’t_!”

 

            “You barely drink at all.” Derek said with a confused frown and Stiles glared.

 

            “It’s the principle of the matter. What happened to mid-twenties to my thirties, _Derek_!?”

 

            Derek looked just as confused. “You shouldn’t be ready yet.” He whispered, and Stiles glowered at him. 

 

            “Tell that to the human being growing inside of me.” He grumbled, motioning towards his stomach. Derek’s eyes followed the motion, hand lifting up to hover over his mate’s abdomen.

 

            “Can I?” He begged gently, still trying to be respectful of Stiles’ minor freak out. Stiles looked taken aback, visibly calming due to Derek’s presence and close proximity. He nodded, and they both watched as Derek’s hand inched past the hem of his shirt to slip under, his palm connecting with bare flesh. Derek concentrated, using all his senses at once.

 

            It wasn’t very strong, but he could feel the hint of a presence beneath Stiles’ stomach.

 

            “Stiles.” He whispered, sounding amazed, and Stiles looked up at him in open awe. “I can feel it.” 

 

            “Jesus.” The younger man whispered, his own hand coming up to cover Derek’s between his shirt. “This is really happening, isn’t it?” His eyes glistened, but Derek couldn’t sense any sadness or anger on him. Only astonishment.

 

            “But you’re too young.” Derek suddenly said, hand trying to pull away from Stiles’ abdomen. Stiles held him there, not allowing him to retreat. “Your body isn’t ready.”

 

            “If it wasn’t then how could this happen?” 

 

            “I don’t know.” Derek whispered, fingers tickling along the skin of Stiles’ belly. 

 

            He could feel the onslaught of Stiles emotions. Fear, anxiety, trepidation, curiosity. But the biggest one was wonderment coupled with a slight hint of hysteria at the idea. There was no regret, nor was there desperation or anger. 

 

            “How am I gonna tell my dad?” Stiles demanded, and Derek found himself chuckling in amusement. 

 

            “I’ll go with you.” He promised and Stiles eyed him in disbelief. 

 

            “Remember how that worked out when we told him about your werewolf status? He still does have his gun, Derek. He wasn’t afraid to wave it at you last time.”

 

            “It’ll be fine, love.” Derek whispered, lips pressing softly against Stiles’ forehead. Stiles sank into his embrace, body relaxing into Derek’s gratefully, and he started to believe in those words.

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles didn’t want to tell anyone yet, but Derek’s family was the exception. The news would be welcomed openly with the Hales, and so he relented easily. They attended their weekly dinner and Stiles fidgeted in his seat next to Derek.

 

            Talia had cooked a feast, raising a brow at Stiles when he went straight for the venison. He mentally shrugged the look away. They wouldn’t judge him when they learned about the growing wolf in his stomach.

            

            Stiles glanced around the table. Peter was whispering in Salina’s ear. Laura was stealing the mashed potatoes just as Cora reached for them. Valerie and Jason were busy trying to stop Chloe and Zoey from having an argument at the dinner table, but one sharp look from Theoderek nipped that in the butt. Lily was quietly eating peas while she watched Valerie’s newborn Emily with amazement. Talia was still eyeing Stiles curiously as if he were a puzzle.

 

            “We actually have an announcement.” Derek suddenly said, quieting the entire dining room with his voice. Stiles felt like he was overflowing with anxiety while butterflies beat against his stomach walls. The rest of the family could probably smell the hint of frantic worry on him. Beneath the table, Derek’s hand gently squeezed his thigh. He felt marginally better after that, even if all eyes were on them. 

 

            “Stiles and I are going to have a baby.” He said with the biggest smile, and no sooner were the words out that the entire table erupted. Peter was clapping Derek on the shoulder with a look of pride as his eyes flashed blue.

 

            “My favorite nephew.” He grinned, speaking loudly to be heard above all the commotion. “You sly wolf! I knew you had it in you!”

 

            Laura was showering Stiles with hugs and kisses, enthusing over nursery ideas and paint themes. Cora was shaking her head at him in amusement. 

 

            “Just couldn’t keep your hands off each other, could you?” She accused and Stiles turned bright red. 

 

            “Now mom and dad can stop hounding me to give them more grandchildren.” Valerie laughed as she kissed Derek on the cheek and gave Stiles a big hug. 

 

            “Oh, hush.” Talia answered, turning her smile to Stiles. It looked almost strained, but she kissed both her boys, pulling them into long-lasting hugs.

 

            “I want a grandson.” Theoderek had stated, and Talia swatted him on the arm. “You may have noticed that girls run strongly in this family. Let’s give it another boy, yeah?” 

 

            Stiles gaped at the massive man. “I’ll see what I can do.” He assured, and Theoderek looked pleased.

            

            “Don’t worry if it doesn’t happen this time. You’ll have more.” He stated, and Stiles gulped at that promise.

 

            At the end of the night, after Stiles had his stomach felt by everyone more than once, and the pack was turning in for the day, Talia pulled Derek and him aside.

 

            “Can I speak with both of you?” She asked, leading them into the kitchen when they nodded. They waited for her to begin.

 

            “I am really happy for you, and the last thing I want to do is make you worry, but I feel you both should know…”

 

            Stiles nodded along with Derek, ushering her to continue.

 

            “Peter and I have a cousin named Conner who was mated to a man named Seth.” She took a breath before pressing on. “Seth became pregnant when he had just turned twenty. His body hadn’t matured enough to handle the pregnancy, and it took a toll on him physically. He became very weak.”

 

            “What happened to him?” Stiles whispered.

 

            “The baby survived the birthing due to inheriting the werewolf trait, but Seth did not.”

 

            Beside him Derek grabbed his hand, gripping him tightly so Stiles squeezed back. 

 

            “What do we do?” Derek whispered, trying and failing to hide his distress.

 

            “We do everything we must to prepare for the delivery.” Talia stated, her confidence setting them both at ease. “Hospitals are out of the equation, but I delivered your sister’s children, I can do the same for you if that is your wish.”

 

            Stiles nodded, trying not to feel too overwhelmed with the information. 

 

            “You need to communicate with us, Stiles.” Talia suddenly said, inflicting a command into her words. “Don’t try to be brave or save face by keeping things to yourself. If you feel exhausted or weak, you must tell us. If you feel any pain or discomfort, let us know.”

 

            “I will.” Stiles promised, and continued to give more promises such as to rest, to take it easy, and to be vocal about what he needed so others could get it for him. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of having people wait on him, but he would’ve promised anything in that moment to get the terrified look off of Derek’s face. 

 

* * *

 

 

            “I don’t want you to worry.” Stiles admitted in Derek’s arms later that night when they were wrapped up in each other on their bed. Derek snorted without any humor.

 

            “I should be comforting _you_.” He whispered. “I did this to you.” 

 

            “You’re really good at being all broody and melodramatic.” Stiles grinned, fingers tickling along Derek’s sides. “You should win an award.”

 

            “I’m gonna let your dad shoot me when we tell him.” Derek admitted. “But I doubt that would make me feel any better.”

 

            “That definitely wouldn’t make _anyone_ feel better. But still, this is good stuff. Real award-winning material.”

 

            “I’m serious, Stiles. I wanted this. I wanted us to have children. I was selfish and now I find out it could… _you_ could-“

 

            “Hush, babe.” Stiles whispered into Derek’s throat, leading his hand down until it rested on his stomach. “You weren’t selfish. I wanted this too.”

 

            Derek looked at him in disbelief, but he didn’t hear any blips in Stiles’ heartbeat, so he knew his mate was being truthful.

 

            “If anything happens to you-“ Derek whispered, sounding completely wrecked.

 

            “I know.” Stiles answered softly, fingers trailing over Derek’s cheek. 

 

            “I only need _you_ Stiles. Everything else is just a bonus.” 

 

            Stiles beamed, feeling nothing but the sensation of completeness this man gave him. He kissed Derek’s lips sweetly, holding onto him as if he were falling.

 

            “I love you.” He sighed into his mate’s mouth trying not to tremble. “God, I love you so much.” They were both shaking now. Stiles couldn’t promise that everything was going to work out the way they wanted, or that it was all going to be fine, but there was something he _could_ promise.

 

            “We’re going to make kick-ass parents.” He whispered against Derek’s lips, and Derek laughed into his mouth. Stiles swallowed up the sound greedily. 

 

* * *

 

 

            Sheriff Stilinski wasn’t the most impressionable man, but he did try to keep an open mind since his son had informed him about the existence of werewolves and then proceeded to tell him that he was currently dating one. That had been a fiasco. He wants to be the kind of person that takes the things Stiles tells him at face value, but being a cop has naturally made him suspicious. It’s just in his nature.

 

            So when Derek and his son inform him of their news, he glares, because seriously, this has to be the worst joke in the history of ever. Werewolves he can accept, because when one is growling at him down the barrel of his gun, it gets kind of hard to deny, but this? Really?

 

            “So you’re…pregnant…”

 

            “With child, yes.” Stiles nods, eyeing his father’s gun in his holster. His dad turns to Derek.

 

            “And you’re the father?”

 

            “Who else would it be?” Stiles demands, looking almost insulted. The sheriff shakes his head in confusion and tries again.

 

            “So you’re telling me…that I’m gonna be a grandfather…and you’re the mother?”

 

            “I prefer the term co-father.” 

 

            “Of course you do.” He muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose sharply. He could feel a migraine coming on.

 

            “You got my son pregnant?” He asks in disbelief, angry eyes flashing to Derek. Derek doesn’t look guilty at all when he answers.

 

            “Yes, sir. I did.”

 

            The sheriff slumps in sudden realization. “Neither of you are joking, are you?” 

 

            They both shake their heads. Stiles watches as his father squares his shoulders, and he knows that a decision has been made. 

 

            “Right. I’m going to be a grandfather, and you’re going to be a mother.” 

 

            “Co-father.” Stiles interjects as his dad points at them both.

 

            “And my grandchild is not going to be born out of wedlock!” 

 

            Derek and Stiles look at each other, the realization only now occurring to them. 

 

            “Just think about it.” His dad asks before leaving quietly to go back to work.

 

            “He’s kind of old fashioned.” Stiles said by way of an explanation. 

 

            “Is marriage something that you want?” Derek asks, looking as serious as Derek Hale can look, which is pretty fucking serious.

 

            Stiles shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean…my mom and my dad were really happy…but I never really thought about it. Is it something _you_ want?”

 

            “Stiles, we’re already tied to each other. I’m in it for forever, you know that. What did I tell you the other night?”

 

            “That you just want me.” Stiles whispered.

 

            “Everything else is a bonus.” Derek finished for him.

            

            “If we do this,” Stiles says trying his hand out at being firm, “we do this because it’s what _we_ want. Not because of what someone else says. Even if that someone else is my dad…who is the sheriff…and owns a gun…and knows where we live-“

 

            “Stiles?” Derek suddenly whispers, pulling the younger man’s hands in his own as he sinks to his knees. For a minute he’s confused.

 

            “You wanna blow me now?” Stiles asks incredulously. “I’m trying to have a conversation here.”

 

            Derek looks at him with an amused twinkle in his eye and his smile widens to almost impossible proportions. 

 

            “I love you, Stiles Stilinski.”

 

            “I love you too, Derek Hale.” Stiles answers with a raised brow, wondering when they started referring to each other so formally.

 

            “And I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”

 

            It suddenly clicks into place what is really going on here, and what Derek is attempting to do.

 

            “Oh. My. God. You’re proposing, aren’t you?”

 

            “Trying to.” Derek chuckles, nuzzling into Stiles’ stomach.

 

            “I can’t breathe.” Stiles wheezes and Derek laughs at his distress.

 

            “I haven’t even gotten to the asking part yet.”

 

            “I think I’m gonna pass out.”

 

            “Stiles Stilinski?”

 

            “Oh god…”

 

            “You’re loud and your limbs flail about alarmingly at times.”

 

            “And you’re insulting me. This is good. I don’t feel so dizzy anymore. Keep going.”

 

            “You talk a lot, about the most random things you can think of. You eat massive amounts of food and sometimes I’m afraid I’ll go broke trying to keep the fridge stocked.”

 

            Stiles can’t help but swat him behind the head.

 

            “You use humor and sarcasm as a weapon, but you make me laugh like nobody else can.”

 

            Stiles begins to hyperventilate. 

 

            “You’re only human, and you don’t have any werewolf strength, but you’re still the strongest person I know.”

 

            He’s going to start sobbing any minute now.

 

            “You’ve accepted me and my family, and everything that comes with us, even if it wasn’t something you were ready for.”

 

            Yup. Stiles is definitely crying now.

 

            “You’re the only thing in this world that I want. That I crave. That I need, and I want everyone else to know it too.”

 

            Stiles’ knees are wobbling, and he’s going to ruin this by falling and cracking his head open.

 

            “I love you, Stiles, and I can promise you that won’t ever change, so will you marry me?”

 

              Stiles almost crumbles to the ground, but Derek catches him easily, holding him up. They’re inches apart, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths when Stiles whispers his answer.

 

            “Take me upstairs.”

 

            Derek raises a brow at him.

 

            “I want my fiancé to take me to bed.”

 

            Derek doesn’t allow Stiles to walk on his own and instead swoops him up carefully and rushes up the stairs.

 

            Stiles has never seen him move so fast.

 

* * *

 

 

            The ceremony is held at the gardens of the Hale house and it’s a small affair. If you could consider the entire Hale pack plus Stiles’ father and a very excited Scott a small affair. He had wanted to bring Allison, but due to some bad blood between the Hales and her family Derek had said no.

 

            Derek stood at the alter under the vine-covered gazebo and Stiles tried not to feel like the girl as he walked down the aisle towards him, trying desperately not to trip over his own two feet. Derek grinned at him, able to see his internal struggle.

 

            Stiles breathed a sigh of relief when he reached his mate’s side. The actual ceremony was a little unorthodox, compiling regular marriage tradition with werewolf tradition. Derek tied a red ribbon around both their wrists, binding them together.

 

            “This ribbon signifies that we are forever bound to each other. It is a connection that cannot be severed. Your needs are my needs. Your pain is our pain. And my love for you is only mirrored by your love for me.” Derek recited, eyes boring into Stiles’. Stiles nodded along to each promise, and Derek looked pleased.

 

            “The red symbolizes the blood we are willing to spill for each other. I will protect you, and you will shelter me. Your strength intensifies my own as our bond makes us stronger. Nothing can come between it. Nothing can come between us.” Derek declared, and a murmuring of approval went up amongst the wolves in the crowd. 

 

            “Do you accept what I am, what we are, and everything we have the potential to be when we are together?”

 

            “I do.” Stiles whispered.

 

            “And do you promise to be mine, and only mine for as long as we draw breath?”

 

            “I promise.”

 

            “Will you love me for my strength, my faults, and the love that I give to you unconditionally?”

 

            “I will always love you.”

 

            Derek gave a sharp nod, eyes flashing aquamarine with his pride and pleasure.

 

            Stiles tried not to mess up when it was his turn, and he pulled at the well-practiced words he had to say.

 

            “Do you accept what I offer you? What I take and what I give?”

 

            “I do.” Derek answered strongly.

 

            “And do you promise yourself to me, and only me. Mind, body, and soul?”

 

            “I promise.”

 

            “And will you love me not only as Derek Hale the man, but as Derek Hale the wolf?”

 

            “I will love you with everything that I am.”

 

            “We are mates.” They whispered together. “We are pack. We are one.”

 

            Stiles couldn’t be sure, but it almost felt as if the ribbon around their wrists tightened. He couldn’t contemplate it for too long, because Derek was unbuttoning the top part of his crisp white shirt, pushing it away from the skin beneath. 

 

            Stiles really didn’t want anyone else to observe this part, but it was tradition, and Derek was apparently a stickler for tradition. He did his part and set about shoving Derek’s own button up shirt out of the way. Derek growled in victory as soon as the pale skin of Stiles’ shoulder was revealed. There was the scar, marking the place he claimed so many times before. Derek nuzzled into the skin and sighed, fangs lengthening only slightly.

 

            Stiles was trembling as he mouthed against the opposite side of Derek’s neck. It was the same place he had bitten before, only his mark had healed. It would peeve him if it didn’t give him an excuse to do it over and over again.

 

            Derek’s tongue flicking against his flesh was his only warning, and Stiles gasped against Derek’s throat, his teeth biting down sharply in an automatic response as Derek’s fangs broke through the skin. He tasted the sharp taste of Derek’s blood, but it didn’t taste like copper. It almost tasted tangy with just a hint of sweetness. 

 

            The witnessing wolves howled in approval while the humans clapped along.

 

            Derek lapped up the blood and helped to right their disheveled attire. Stiles was about to turn to the crowd when Derek gripped his cheeks gently and pulled him in for a kiss, mouth slanting over the smaller man’s repeatedly. This was one human tradition he could get on board with. Stiles felt like jelly as he kissed Derek back, not even noticing enough to be embarrassed as all the guests went wild over the display.

 

* * *

 

            

            Stiles was sitting at the table, disappointingly not drinking the wine that was being served while he watched as Derek danced with Lily, her small feet resting on top of Derek’s polished shoes while they twirled around.

 

            Stiles’ dad sat next to him.

 

            “I’m not really the bride, so don’t ask me to do a father-daughter dance.” He warned, and the sheriff chuckled good-naturedly. 

 

            “Have you ever seen me even _attempt_ to dance? It’s not pretty.” 

 

            Stiles smiled fondly. “Mom used to make you all the time.” 

 

            “Yeah she did, didn’t she?” They shared a quiet moment lost in memories. 

 

            “She’d be proud of you.” He said softly, and Stiles looked at his father with shining eyes.

 

            “You think so?”

 

            “I know so. She would have approved of him too.” He added, motioning to Derek on the dance floor. Stiles knew Derek could hear their conversation, and that made him feel all the more emotional. 

 

            “And do you? Approve, I mean?”

 

            “Does he make you happy?” His father asked softly, tone serious in its question. 

 

            “He does.” Stiles answered with conviction. “We’re not perfect, and we mess up a lot…but he makes me happy.”

 

            “Then that’s good enough for me.” His dad said with a grin. Stiles pulled him into a hug, blaming his mixed up hormones on the fact that he was getting emotional. 

 

            When Stiles’ father pulled back, Derek was there, nodding at them.

 

            “Will you dance with me?” He asked, holding a hand out to his mate, and Stiles nodded before looking back at his dad.

 

            “Go on you two. Have fun.” He said, waving them away. Derek led Stiles out onto the floor and pulled him in close.

 

            “You heard that, didn’t you?”

 

            “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.” Derek promised and Stiles shook his head.

 

            “I know.” He assured. “He approves.” He added happily and Derek smiled softly at him.

 

            “Does that mean he’s no longer going to wave his gun at me anymore?”

 

            “Disappointed?” 

 

            Derek shrugged. “It was kind of a bonding experience.”

 

            Stiles swatted Derek on his chest, laughing when Derek dipped him low. 

 

            “I feel ridiculous right now.”

 

            “Good ridiculous?” Derek asked, and Stiles nodded. 

 

            “I’m pregnant. I just got married a werewolf, and I’m pretty sure everyone is calling me a bride behind my back.”

 

            “Cora will say it to your face if you prefer.”

 

            Stiles couldn’t help himself, he was laughing loudly over the strangeness of it all, receiving fond looks from the pack over the joyful noise.

 

            “If I make you laugh like that at least once a day for the rest of our lives, I’ll be happy.” Derek admitted, and Stiles grinned as his laugh died to a hysterical chuckle. 

 

            “You’re kind of cheesy.” He claimed affectionately, nuzzling into Derek’s sensitive throat. “But that’s a pretty hefty promise. You think you’re up to the challenge?”

 

            “I will make you happy.” Derek swore, eyes flashing blue. “I promise.” Stiles hummed in pleasure as he took in his mate. 

 

            “You already have.”

 

* * *

 

                        

            Stiles hadn’t wanted to go to some fancy vacation hotel for their honey moon. He had just wanted to go home, so home was where they went. 

 

            Derek was carrying him like a blushing bride and Stiles actually laughed when the loft door closed behind them. 

 

            “You just carried me over the threshold.”

 

            Derek kissed him and growled low into his mouth. “I made an honest man out of you today. Now I think it’s time we consummated our union, don’t you Mr. Stilinski-Hale?”

 

            “Hmm. I kind of like the sound of that.” Stiles sighed.

 

            Derek carried him over to the bed and set him down in the center. He went for the buttons on Stiles’ shirt just as Stiles went straight for the zip of Derek’s pants.

            

            “Let me.” Derek said, trying to take things slow and gentle, but Stiles scoffed and tugged harder.

 

            “You wish.” He hissed, getting frustrated with the difficult material and just shoving his face into Derek’s cloth-covered erection.

 

            “Jesus Christ, Stiles.” Derek groaned, hands coming up to tangle in his husband’s hair. 

 

            Stiles inhaled and his eyes rolled up. “God, I can smell you!” He said breathlessly, pawing at the waistband and shoving them down. “You’re already leaking. I can smell that you’re already leaking, Derek. I can almost taste it.” 

 

            By rights, Stiles shouldn’t be able to smell that, and Derek broke through the haze to pull Stiles back. 

 

            “How?” He whispered, and Stiles whimpered at the loss of contact.

 

            “The baby.” Stiles explained, trying to fight his way back to Derek’s cock. “Your mom says if it inherits the werewolf gene, it’ll affect my own senses so that they’re heightened, giving me a slight advantage until I carry to term. Like added protection by proxy.”

 

            Derek didn’t have time to be fascinated, as Stiles was now swallowing him down enthusiastically. 

 

            “God, the taste of you!” Stiles moaned wantonly over Derek’s rigid flesh. “Can’t wait for you to knot me. Wanna feel it.” 

 

            “Fuck, Stiles.” Derek growled, dick getting harder along Stiles’ tongue at his wicked words.

 

            He pushed his mate off his arousal with a wet pop, getting rid of both their clothes until there were no barriers between them. Stiles scooted away when Derek moved to lay on top of him.

            

            “Please don’t say you’re in the mood to tease?” Derek begged, sounding completely wrecked. Stiles shook his head.

 

            “You remember that first time, at the water park? The way you held me? I wanna do it like that.” 

 

            Derek’s breath caught remembering their first time, and he nodded. Leaning against the headboard as he pulled Stiles into his arms till the smaller man was straddling his thighs. He could feel Stiles leaking along his legs, making everything slippery and good.

 

            Derek’s fingers moved to Stiles’ entrance when Stiles gripped his hand. 

 

            “It’s okay.” He whispered. “I’m ready. Wanna feel it.” He explained, and Derek groaned in something that felt like sexual agony.

 

            “You’re fucking killing me here, love.” He whispered, feeling Stiles raise himself up and grip Derek’s cock in his hand to position him at his entrance. He stayed poised like that, waiting until Derek’s eyes held his own, breath catching at the sight.

 

            Stiles sank down completely, knocking the air out of them both as they moaned in tandem. 

 

            Derek rose up on his knees, gripping Stiles by the hips as he thrust up into his tight heat. Stiles’ legs wrapped around Derek’s waist and he attacked his mouth with vigor.

 

            “Does it always feel like this with you?” Stiles panted as Derek continued to slide into his wet, slick channel over and over again.

 

            “Like…what?” Derek asked between thrusts. 

 

            “Feels like I’m drowning in the smell of your arousal…the taste of your skin…your emotions.” Stiles admitted on a husky sigh. “So is it always like this?”

 

            “Always.” Derek answered on a growl and Stiles moaned in abandon. 

 

            “How do you stay sane?”

 

            “Find an anchor.” Derek hissed, changing his angle as he fucked up, pushing Stiles down to meet him. Stiles cried out.

 

            “An anchor?” He stuttered nearly delirious, and Derek nodded emphatically while his hips swiveled in.

 

            “Something that keeps you grounded. Something worth coming back to.”

 

            “Like you?” Stiles sobbed, making Derek growl and bare his teeth. “Can someone be a tether if they’re the one responsible for making you feel like you’re drifting in the first place?”

 

            “Yes.” Derek moaned, rhythm faltering as he continued to pump into the smaller man’s body. “You _are_ my anchor.” He admitted, and Stiles whined at his mate’s confession.

 

            “It’s the same for me.” Stiles groaned, neck arching to bare his throat. “Bring me back if I get lost, okay?” He begged, feeling as if he were wondering a vast forest without a map.

 

            “Always.” Derek promised again, pace speeding up and he took Stiles’ nipple into his mouth. Stiles cried out, willingly letting go now that he knew Derek would find him again, allowing himself to just _feel_.

 

            Derek’s tongue licked over the wound on Stiles’ neck, and that’s all it took to make him come with a desperate shout, body arching as Derek continued to fuck him through his orgasm, which intensified once the sharp point of his canines broke through skin, the wet heat of his mouth sealing over the mark.

 

            Derek lost it at the sight of his mate drifting in euphoria, body slumped against his own as his passage tightened and clenched around him. His knot swelled, and he continued to rut even as he filled Stiles up with come. Stiles let out a high-pitched cry. Eyes wide and body taught as he was overtaken by another shattering wave of ecstasy. 

 

            Derek caught him reflexively when he collapsed, lids fluttering as he passed out. He laid them both gently on the bed, situating them in a comfortable position as he waited for Stiles to come back to himself. He caressed Stiles’ soft skin and nuzzled into the back of his neck while murmuring sweet praises along his sweat-slick flesh.

 

            Stiles came back slowly, humming in pleasure at the attention Derek was lavishing him with.

 

            Derek’s hands were on his belly, fingertips tickling along the sensitive skin, and Stiles gave a tired laugh. 

 

            “Can you sense anything from the baby?” He whispered, and Derek’s hands flattened until his palms curved to the planes of his stomach.

 

            “Like what?” He asked back just as softly. Stiles gave a slight shrug.

 

            “Emotions. Whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

 

            Derek shook his head. “In time, I’ll be able to sense certain feelings as it develops, but I won’t be able to determine the gender.”

 

            “Oh.” Stiles breathed out as he shifted closer to Derek. “Do you want a boy, or a girl?” 

 

            “I’m lucky either way.” Derek answered, and Stiles gave a sleepy grin.

 

            “Yeah…I think so too. Maybe it’ll have your eyes.”

 

            Derek’s breath caught and his hand buried itself in Stiles’ hair, making the smaller man mewl.

 

            “And _your_ personality.” Derek added, but Stiles was snorting. 

 

            “Don’t curse us. I was a terrible child. I made my mom go prematurely gray.”

 

            Derek nipped at the top knob of Stiles’ spine playfully. 

 

            “I don’t think I would mind.” Derek confessed. “Especially if the baby inherited your loyalty. Your devotion. Your bravery. Your stubbornness.” He gave a gentle kiss after each trait listed. “Your beliefs and morals; lacking though they may be at times. And yes, even your inability to stop talking and your lack of a brain-to-mouth filter.”

 

            “You should really be careful what you wish for.” Stiles warned, basking in the waves of pleasure rolling lazily over his body.

 

            “As long as the baby gets its grace from me, it’ll be fine.”

 

            “I am _not_ ungraceful.”

 

            “You don’t even believe yourself when you say that.” Derek said in amusement and Stiles huffed as he was pulled deeper into Derek’s arms.

 

            “You’re a rude husband.” Stiles complained. “And we haven’t even been married for a whole day.”

 

            “Would it help if I told you I love you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know that?”

 

            “Maybe.” Stiles whispered playfully, feeling the shape of Derek’s grin against his skin.

 

            “I love you.” Derek breathed, kissing up the side of Stiles’ throat. “And I’m going to spend the rest of our lives making sure you know just how much.”

 

            “Tell me more.” Stiles urged, and Derek chuckled near his ear.

 

            “How about I show you?” He suggested breathlessly, and Stiles could feel his body begin to reawaken. 

 

            “That works to.” He acknowledged on a pleasured sigh, body unfurling as Derek slowly made love to him.

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles is always tired lately, barely leaving the bed or the couch during the day until Derek comes home from work, nuzzling into his neck as he inhales his mate’s scent.

 

            “You smell different.” He says one evening, and Stiles frowns.

 

            “Bad different?”

 

            “No, not bad, just…different. Like something has shifted or been added.”

 

            “Cause of the baby?”

 

            Derek nodded, nostrils flaring as he breathed deeply again. 

 

            “I like it.” He finally admitted as Stiles grinned, pulling him in even closer. 

 

            “Watch a movie with me?” He asked, and Derek nodded, picking a DVD off the shelf but not allowing Stiles to see, making him guess until the titles started rolling in.

 

            “Blazing Saddles?” Stiles said with a grin, and Derek pulled him closer, hands slotting over his belly to caress.

 

            Stiles laughed at the ridiculous film, and each time Derek hummed in approval at the joyful sound. 

 

            “Look at my hand.” Jim said on the screen. 

 

             “Steady as a rock.” Bart answered, 

 

            “Yeah, but I shoot with this one.” He informed, raising his other hand which was shaking violently. 

 

             Stiles let out a choked-off amused sound and Derek chuckled into his hair. 

 

            “This was one of my mom’s favorites.” He admitted, and Derek’s arms gave him an affectionate squeeze. 

 

            “This and Young Frankenstein?”

 

            Stiles nodded, burrowing deeper into Derek’s heat.

 

            “She liked comedies.”

 

            “She had good taste.” Derek answered and Stiles sighed in pleasure, body relaxing as exhaustion settled over him again.

 

            It was kind of ironic that just as soon as Lili Von Shtupp began to sing ‘I’m so tired,’ Stiles dropped off into sleep. Derek let the film play out before carrying Stiles gently to their bed, pulling back the covers before wrapping himself securely around his mate, falling asleep just as quickly.

 

* * *

 

 

            “How are you feeling today?” Derek asks. It is a question he is constantly asking, but Stiles is never annoyed by it, knowing just how much the older man worries.

 

            “Fine.” Stiles answers honestly. He’s actually not as tired today, and he’s managed to get some work done around the house. “I did the dishes.” He says, feeling triumphant, but Derek throws a frown his way.

 

            “You didn’t have to. You should be resting.”

                        

            “I’m okay.” Stiles argues. “Really. I had a lot more energy today, and I wanted to do something productive.”

 

            “You promised you wouldn’t overdue it.” Derek said, and Stiles looked at him incredulously. 

 

            “It was only like six dishes, Derek.”

 

            Derek sighed and looked away.

 

            “I know I sound unreasonable, and like I’m massively overreacting, but you have to do this for me, Stiles. You have to take it easy. I’m going out of my mind here with worry, and when I’m at work I have to force myself not to call you every five minutes. So please, just-“

 

            “Okay.” Stiles interrupted, hating the fear he could read in every line of Derek’s body. “I promise.” He conceded, and watched as Derek took in a deep breath of relief and relaxed.

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles is folding a pile of laundry on their bed; refusing to be completely useless, when he hears the sound of glass shattering in the kitchen.

 

            “Derek?” He calls, tone laced with worry. “What was that?” The wolf rushes into view, eyes wide and visibly shaking. He doesn’t say anything, just climbs up onto the bed, hands instantly going to Stiles’ stomach.

 

            “Derek?” Stiles whispers questioningly, and Derek quiets him. 

 

            “I can hear the heartbeat.” He says in awe, eyes unbelievably big, and Stiles feels something inside of him melt.

 

            “Really? Is it fast or slow? What’s normal for a baby’s heartbeat? Derek, why are you looking at me like _that_?” Stiles finishes on a huff of air, Derek’s mouth is wide open while he continues to gape in shock. Stiles watches as he struggles to collect himself. Eyes blinking rapidly before his mouth shuts with a deafening click.

 

            “B-because.” He stutters, hands trembling against Stiles’ abdomen. “There are four heartbeats in this room right now.”

 

            Stiles does the math, and his jaw falls limply as his own eyes widen. “Yours…mine…and…”

 

            “Twins.” Derek whispers, and Stiles’ hand shoots to his belly.

 

            “Two of them?” He breathes in astonished wonder, and Derek’s hands cover over his. Stiles thought having only _one_ baby was overwhelming…but now…

 

            “Multiple babies.” He says in a daze, and Derek is kissing him gently, licking his face in the wolf’s effort to soothe.

 

            “Twins are common in my family.” Derek explains sounding almost apologetic as he continues to groom his mate.

 

            Stiles shakes his head in disbelief and grips Derek’s shirt tighter.

 

            “Is this going to make it more difficult?” He asks, because he can’t help but worry. “When your mother told us about what happened to Seth…he only had one child, and he didn’t survive…”

 

            Derek is suddenly still, frightened blue eyes looking into Stiles terrified honey-brown ones.

 

            “Oh Stiles.” He whispers, pulling him into his arms. Stiles is trembling. He hates that he’s tarnished the moment with fear and trepidation, but it’s something he can’t tramp down or control.

 

            “We are gonna be _fine_.” Derek whispers over and over again, rocking them gently back and forth. “You’ll see. Not gonna let anything happen to you. Not ever.”

 

            Stiles tries to take comfort in his mate’s words, but he can’t. It’s out of both their hands.

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles is lounging in the sun on a reclined cushioned-chair in the Hale garden, listening to the distant sounds of Derek playing tag with Chloe, Zoey, and Lily. 

 

            “So, twins.” Peter says by way of greeting, taking a seat next to Stiles. The younger man’s eyes blink open, trying to clear the exhaustion and he nods.

 

            “Have you guys picked out any names?”

 

            “No.” Stiles answered. “We haven’t really talked about it.” Derek had tried to broach the subject a few times, but Stiles had cut him off. 

 

            “What about houses?” Peter asked.

 

            “What do you mean?” 

 

            “Well, the loft might be fine for a while, but you’ll need more space eventually. With actual walls and rooms and such.”

 

            “Oh.” Stiles answers softly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I hadn’t really thought about that either.”

 

            Peter sighed, shoulders squaring as he looked into Stiles’ lackluster eyes.

 

            “You don’t think you’ll survive, do you?” Stiles met his gaze, but he did not answer verbally. It was enough for Peter to see the truth.

 

            “That’s why you aren’t thinking about names, because you don’t think you’ll be alive long enough to learn the sex of the babies. You’re already preparing.”

 

            Stiles turned back to the massive backyard that was more surrounding forest then anything. He could no longer see Derek or the girls.

 

            “I’m just trying to be realistic.” He offered, and Peter let out an unamused snort. 

 

            “You’re being stupid.” He argued firmly, and Stiles’ gaze once more settled on him. “Is this because Talia told you about Seth?”

 

            Peter growled seeing it in Stiles’ expression.

 

            “I don’t usually give pep talks, cause I don’t think I’m all that peppy, but I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.” Peter said menacingly. “Seth was weak. He complained, and whined, and never could do anything for himself, even when he wasn’t pregnant. Seth wasn’t like you at all.”

 

            Stiles is actually speechless by the unintentional compliment. 

 

            “If you want to continue to behave as if you’ve lost a fight that hasn’t even begun yet, then nobody can stop you. It _is_ your choice. But you’ll only be proving that you were never a worthy mate for Derek from the start.”

 

            Stiles’ eyes widened in shock, but he did not interrupt.

 

            “My nephew is strong. He has _real_ potential. He needs to be with someone that can match his determination. His _will_. His refusal to go down quietly. Are you telling me that that’s not you?”

 

            “I…”

 

            “Have you lost your ability to speak along with your backbone?”

 

            Stiles’ hands cupped over his stomach protectively and he growled at the older wolf.

 

            “I. Am not. Weak.” He snarled, watching as a sharp, pleased smile took over Peter’s lips.

 

            “Good.” He proclaimed, standing fluidly as he headed back to the house. “I didn’t think you were.” 

 

            Stiles was left to stare after him, feeling something in his constitution strengthen. 

 

* * *

 

 

            “I’m getting fat.” Stiles whined from the bathroom, checking out his profile in the mirror above the sink. 

 

            Derek’s hands slithered around his stomach while he nuzzled behind his neck. 

 

            “You’re barely even showing.” He soothed, and Stiles shot him an incredulous look through the reflective glass. 

 

            “Are you sure werewolves have super-vision? Because you sound pretty blind to me.”

 

            Derek chuckled into his skin and Stiles shivered.

 

            “So you have a little bump.” He conceded and Stiles tried to flail. 

 

            “Little? I’ve gained nearly twelve pounds!”

 

            “I like it.” Derek confessed, palms tracing over the rounded curve of Stiles’ belly.

 

            “I’m gonna get even fatter cause they’re twins. I’ll get stretch marks.” He moped and Derek licked along the shell of his ear.

 

            “You’ll always be perfect to me.”

 

            “Stop it. I can’t stay in self-pity mode if you keep saying stuff like that.”

 

            “Like what?” Derek whispered playfully. “Like…how sexy I think you are. Or how you’re practically glowing? How happy you’ve been lately? How I can’t keep my hands off of you?”

 

            Stiles mewled and bared his neck in offering, Derek’s human teeth scraping over the flesh.

 

            “Yes, that. All of it.” Stiles moaned, and Derek’s rumbling chuckle made his skin break out in goosebumps.

 

            “I think I should take your scale away.” Derek threatened and Stiles swatted at his arm.

 

            “Don’t you dare.” He warned.

 

            “Then stop weighing yourself every hour.”

 

            “You’re one to talk.” Stiles muttered. “Look at you. If you started getting fat you’d have a freak out of massive proportions.”

 

            “Which is why you’re stronger than me.” Derek grinned, and Stiles was genuinely surprised. 

 

            “Flattery will get you nowhere.” He muttered unconvincingly and Derek’s grin turned into a mischievous smile. 

 

            “Flattery gets me everywhere.” He contradicted, turning Stiles around in his arms so he could look into his eyes. “And is it still flattery if it’s true?”

 

            “You are in rare form today.” Stiles hissed against Derek’s lips, running his tongue along the plump bottom one while Derek growled.

 

            “You have no idea.” He answered back, gently hoisting Stiles up onto the counter, slotting perfectly between his legs. He proceeded to make Stiles completely forget about sudden weight gain and baby bumps. 

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles gets heavier, and he starts to feel not so bad about making Derek pamper him. Not that Derek really needs to be asked, he’s practically already bringing Stiles whatever he could want before the request is out of his mouth.

 

            “My back aches.” Stiles groans, but Derek’s hands are already kneading out the knots.

 

            “My feet are killing me.” He complains one afternoon, and Derek raises a brow at him because he’s already gripping the smaller man’s heel while he holds his leg aloft to give him a foot massage.

 

            “Can I have the-“

 

            Derek offers him the remote and Stiles stares at him in wonderment.

 

            “You’re like a mind reader.” He whispers in awe and Derek chuckles.

 

            “Werewolf, remember?” He says with humor and Stiles huffs. 

 

            “What does that have to do with telepathic capabilities?”

 

            “It has nothing to do with telepathy. I know you, and I can read the signs of your body.”

 

            “What signs?” Stiles demands, and Derek’s fingers dig into the arch of his foot, making him gasp.

 

            “The way you hold yourself. I can tell when you’re back is hurting you because you stoop just a little. Your skin gets tighter around your eyes and you bite your lip like you’re physically trying to stop yourself from saying anything about it.”

 

            “No kidding.” Stiles whispers in fascination, and Derek nods in answer.

 

            “I can tell when you’re feet hurt because your gait changes. You spend a shorter amount of time on your left foot because you favor your right. Your whole body becomes stiff and you shift a lot if you have to stand in one place for long.”

 

            “And the remote?” Stiles asks. Derek grins.

 

            “That’s just because I _know_ _you_. You can’t handle silence for long, and the TV offers background noise.”

 

            Stiles blinks a few times before he bends awkwardly and pulls Derek into a kiss. 

 

            “I love you. Like whoa.” He says inarticulately, and Derek gives an easy laugh.

 

            “Like _whoa_?” He asks confused, but Stiles nods emphatically. 

 

            “Like whoa.” He repeats, and Derek shakes his head.

 

            “I love you like whoa too.” 

 

            Stiles beams at him with a smug expression.

 

            “Yeah ya do.” He boasts and Derek digs his fingers into the sensitive underside of Stiles’ foot, making him writhe.

 

            “You’re no fair!” He hisses in complaint, and Derek grins before his fingers skim along the responsive skin.  

 

            “That’s not how we play.” The wolf answers huskily, and Stiles eyes him like a trapped rabbit, licking his lips as if anticipating being devoured.

 

            “Show me.” He whispers, and Derek knows exactly what Stiles is asking for. After all, he _knows_ Stiles.

 

* * *

 

 

            “Why are you waddling?” Lily asks him one day when they visit the Hale house, and Derek has to intercede before Stiles can get overemotional and start crying uncontrollably. 

 

            He does that sometimes.

 

            “Because of the babies inside him.” Derek says quickly, but Stiles glowers at his mate as if that’s a stupid answer.

 

            “Because I’m fat!” He declares, shoving more rare-cooked venison in his mouth. Cora and Laura laugh from the table, and Stiles flashes them a glare. It isn’t funny. He’s had to take time off of school because of his swelling belly.

 

            “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” Salina says amusedly from the door. “Val was twice your size when she got pregnant. And I’m not talking about when she was carrying the twins. I’m talking about when she was only carrying Emily.”

 

            “She looked like a balloon.” Cora agrees with unabashed mirth. 

 

            “A zeppelin.” Laura adds, and another round of giggles go up.

 

            “I can hear you!” Valerie yells from the sitting room and Salina snorts while Laura tries to stifle her choking laughter with the palm of her hand.

 

            “We know!” Cora yells back unnecessarily. “That’s why we’re saying it!”

            

            “You guys are evil.” Stiles mutters, holding his plate to his chest protectively as if it’s at risk of being stolen away. 

 

            “We’re supportive.” Salina argues, and Cora nods in agreement.

 

            “You’re still waddling.” Lily informs, and Stiles’ lips settle in a firm line. 

 

            “Take it up with him.” He growls, pointing at a sheepish looking Derek. “He did this to me, so he can explain.”

 

            He leaves the good-natured laughter behind, taking his venison with him.

 

* * *

 

 

             “They’re happy.” Derek tells him one day, and Stiles frowns at him in confusion before the water works turn on.

 

            “They are?” He whispers, sounding completely wrecked and Derek’s expression mirrors his feelings while he nods.

 

            “They like it when they can hear us talk, or when you sing to them. They like it when we put our hands here.” Derek demonstrates by leading Stiles’ palms over his swollen belly. 

 

            “It makes them feel safe.” 

 

            Stiles shakes his head because he can’t stop crying.

 

            “I hate hormones!” He declares, and Derek let’s go of a rumbling laugh. 

 

            “I wish I had that excuse.” Derek whispers as his eyes begin to shine with moisture.

 

            “Don’t start, you’ll make it worse!” Stiles warns and Derek laughs as he presses his ear to Stiles’ belly. 

 

            “I can feel them.” The older man says in awe, and Stiles tries to regain composure by using humor as his shield.

 

            “Tell them to stop kicking me in the intestines. They might not even be born yet, but they’re strong little things.”

 

            “You hear that children?” Derek coos to the thinly stretched skin of Stiles’ abdomen. “Be nice to your mother!”

 

            “Co-father!” Stiles seethes, swatting Derek on the back of his head. Derek turns to look up at him with a genuinely happy smile.

 

            “I think they know.” He says cryptically and Stiles raises a brow at him.

 

            “Know what?” He asks. 

 

            “How lucky they are to have you.” 

 

            Stiles groans and pushes him away teasingly.

 

            “Now you’re just trying to make me cry on purpose.” He accuses and Derek smirks at him in amusement.

 

            “Maybe a little.” He admits, making Stiles bite out a surprised laugh at his honesty while he runs his hands through Derek’s hair.

 

            “They really are though.” Derek says in the silence. “Lucky, I mean.”

 

            And Stiles’ tortured laughter echoes through the loft. 

 

* * *

 

 

            It rains on the day of Stiles’ baby shower, but he doesn’t mind. He’s more boggled by the fact that he’s actually _having_ a baby shower. 

 

            Though, he never got a bridal shower. Not that he _was_ the bride, but he suddenly feels cheated.

 

             Stiles had wanted it to be a small gathering, but Talia had still set out enough snacks to feed a small nation, and there was a mountain of presents in the center of the sitting room; which he eyed with two raised brows and a belligerent expression.

 

            “Don’t give that look.” Talia says. “They’re not all from us. The rest of the pack sent them to wish you well.”

 

            Stiles feels warm inside, and it’s a struggle not to cry. _Again_. Damn it.

            

            “I’ve never been to a baby shower before.” Scott says to Peter in excitement, and Peter looks at him in confusion.

 

            “Why not?” He asks.

 

            “Because men don’t usually attend.” The sheriff tries to explain, but Peter looks even more intrigued. 

 

            “Do they fear it somehow emasculates them?” 

 

            “I think it’s cause they get bored.” Scott offers, though it’s clearly not the case with him because he’s practically bouncing on his heels. 

 

            “Does the male not realize that it is partly his fault that there’s a baby shower in the first place?” He sounds as if humans are a fascinating, yet primitive creatures.

 

            The sheriff shrugs. “I went to my baby shower. It was fun. There were games.”

 

            “Will there be games during this one?” Scott asks, delighted by the prospect, and the sheriff shrugs again.

 

            Stiles groans and goes into the kitchen to find Derek. He peruses the snacks along the way, mumbling when he doesn’t see anything he’s currently craving.

 

            “Where’s the meat?” He mutters, eyes falling on Derek’s form at the stove, two slabs of delicious venison sizzling on the burner. 

 

            “God, I love you.” He sighs, wrapping himself around Derek’s back and feeling his mate shake with a rumbling laugh.

 

            He shuts the burner off and grabs a plate, tearing off a small piece of venison to hold up temptingly to Stiles’ lips. Stiles moves to take it in his mouth when Derek pulls back. 

 

            “Ah ah ah.” He says, moving the meat out of reach. “Blow on it first or it’ll burn you.”

 

            “What about you?” Stiles asks, and Derek grins. 

 

            “Werewolf, remember? I’ll heal.”

 

            Stiles blows and watches as Derek’s pupils dilate. 

 

              His mouth closes over the meat, taking Derek’s fingers with them, sucking on the sensitive skin.

 

            Salina enters the kitchen and doesn’t even bat an eye at them.

 

            “Get a room you two.” She mutters while digging through the fridge. “I’m not even a wolf and I’m drowning in your pheromones.” And just like that she makes her exit. 

 

            Stiles laughs and hides his face in Derek’s chest. “Your family.” Is all he needs to say and Derek nods in agreement. 

 

            “Our family.” He corrects, and Stiles gives a hum of approval. 

 

            “Get in here you two!” Laura yells from the sitting room, and Stiles takes the plate out of Derek’s hand and exits the kitchen with his mate right behind him.

 

            There is a designated spot on the couch for them, and Stiles takes his seat, leaving just enough room for Derek.

 

            His delicious plate of venison is taken out of his hands and a present replaces it. 

 

            “This one is from Lily.” Talia explains, because all day Lily has been demanding that her gift be the first one opened. 

 

            Stiles unwraps the pretty paper and opens the box. He gasps when he looks inside, pulling out an intricate music box that plays a pretty lullaby. 

 

            “It was hers when she was little.” Theoderek said, and Stiles eyes flew to Lily. 

 

            “She insisted on giving it to you two.” Talia smiled.

 

            Stiles twisted the knob on the box and listened to the gentle music as it washed over him. The metal was delicately engraved, forming in intricate knot on the lid that resembled the shape of a wolf.

 

            “It’s beautiful.” He whispered, and Lily looked pleased. Derek took the music box from him and set it in a safe place. Cora is next, and she shoves her box at Stiles. Inside are two little onesies. One claims ‘I Weeble’, while the other says, ‘I wobble.’ 

 

            “That’s awesome.” Stiles laughs. 

 

            Laura bought them a stroller that fit two, as well as matching carriers. 

 

            “I wanted to get you a better car, but mom said it was a little excessive.” She grumbles. Stiles gawks at her.

 

            “There’s nothing wrong with my jeep. Besides, I’m a terrific driver.”

 

            Everybody stares it him, and Stiles bristles. 

 

            “Next present.” He urges, and Talia, takes his and Derek’s hands and leads them to the two biggest presents in the room. 

 

            They’re crib sets, the bedding, themes and even the mobile that spins above. One is decorated with moons and stars and the other shows little woodland creatures and clouds. Very unisex decisions since they still didn’t know the gender of the twins. 

 

            “There’s also a set here whenever you come to visit.” Talia beamed, and Stiles was so overwhelmed he had to cover his face while he cried like a baby. Derek held him till he calmed. They were seated back on the couch when Peter moved in close.

 

            “Look what I got you.” He said, sounding pleased. In his hands he holds too similar teddy bears, only different in attire. 

 

            “That’s actually really sweet.” Stiles answered, fighting not to become emotional again.

 

            “You haven’t even seen the best part.” Peter grinned revealing a hidden compartment with a tiny camera inside. “It’s a nanny cam!”

 

            “But…we’re not using a nanny.” Stiles informed, and Peter looked at him like he was slow. 

 

            “This isn’t for an _actual_ nanny. These are for the babies. Baby werewolves are sneaky little brats, and little escape artists. This is to keep an eye on the little pups.”

 

            Stiles looked incredulous, so Peter expanded on his story.

 

            “When Derek was a baby, he chewed through the bars on his crib. Took us thirty minutes to find him, and that’s because he got bored and started making gurgling sounds. Teething is a bitch to deal with when it comes to werewolves.”

 

            Around him, almost the entire circle nodded from experience. 

 

            “That’s why the cribs are metal.” Talia informed, and Stiles swallowed around the dry lump in his throat.

            

            “I got more of those bears in case you need ‘em.” Peter offered.

 

            Stiles nodded gravely. “Yes please.”

 

            Jason and Valerie bought them a whole bath set, with the little tub and the baby wash and shampoo, and Stiles thanked them profusely. 

 

            Both the sheriff and Theoderek presented their presents at the same time, giving matching wrapped boxes to each of their sons. 

 

            “We came up with this idea, so…” Stiles’ dad says, and Stiles looks at Derek before they start to unwrap.

 

            “Oh wow.” Stiles says almost exactly at the same time Derek laughs, and asks, “You kept it?”

 

            They’re each holding up their old baby blankets. 

 

            “Thought your children would love ‘em as much as you did when you were that age.” The sheriff answers, and Stiles is crying all over again.

 

            “Plus, they smell like you.” Theoderek explains. “So it’ll put the pups at ease.”

 

            Scott presents Stiles with a baby caring kit, that includes; but is not limited to a baby thermometer, little fingernail clippers, baby powder, lotion, tiny toothbrushes, pacifiers, bottles and diapers. Stiles is overwhelmed by how much it is, but Scott only shrugs and pulls out his inhaler.

 

            “You can never be too prepared when it comes to babies.” He states, shaking the plastic and taking a steadying huff.

 

            Salina practically bought them a wardrobe of baby clothes and Peter looks at her with pride. 

 

            “She has excellent taste.” He assures the future parents and Stiles gawks at the presents still remaining. The absent members of the Hale pack bought them more clothes, blankets, diapers, teething toys, basinets, baby monitors and a bunch of other things that Stiles had no idea what they were used for.

 

            “Anything you don’t need, you can just take back.” Peter assured. “That’s what I did.” 

 

            “You’ve never had a baby shower.” Cora said with a frown, and Valerie’s glowing-golden eyes shot to him. 

 

            “I was wondering what happened to some of the gifts at my shower!” She accused and Peter had the decency to look slightly remorseful.

 

            “Like you really needed five tubs of diaper rash ointment.”

 

            “Like you would know!” Val shot back, but Talia quieted them with a look.

 

            Stiles gave each of them a hug, trying not to make it too awkward with his ginormous belly.  Nobody minded, and by the end of the day it was practically normal to have someone’s hand attached to his stomach, cooing over his unborn children.

 

            “I think they’re tired from all the excitement.” Stiles whispers to Derek, once they manage to be alone, and Derek smiles broadly back at him, nuzzling into the top of his head. 

 

            “It was a pretty exciting day.” Derek says in agreement and Stiles snorts. 

 

            “I saw Peter digging around in the presents.” Stiles laughed, and Derek sighed. 

 

            “So he takes back a few diapers. They usually get the sizes wrong anyways. And those bears of his more than make up for it.” Derek said, sounding almost haunted. 

 

            “Were you really that bad as a baby?” Stiles asked in curiosity, and Derek only stared at him with ridiculously wide eyes.

 

            “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

 

            “Let’s hope they’re mellower than I was.” Derek whispered in a silent prayer, and Stiles actually giggled hysterically imagining baby Derek as some sort of harbinger of chaos and mischievousness.

 

            It was kind of cute. Maybe he even wore a tiny leather jacket at that age.

 

* * *

 

 

            The expected due date gets closer, and Stiles feels a growing need to stay in one place.

 

            “You’re trying to find a place to den.” Talia explains while she visits him at the loft. Derek is a warm soothing presence next to him. “You’re restless because you don’t feel as safe here as you want to.”

 

            Stiles nods, because that’s true. Ever since that omega invaded their territory it’s left a bad taste in his mouth.

 

            “Come to the house.” She encourages. “You can deliver there, and it’ll be safer with the others around.

 

            Stiles yearns for that. To have the rest of the pack near. His eyes find Derek’s and his mate nods. 

 

            “Wherever you wanna go, love.” He assures, and Stiles bumps his head up under Derek’s jaw, nuzzling into the skin there. 

 

            Talia helps to collect everything they’ll need. 

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles is settled comfortably in Derek’s bed in his old room. The door is almost always left open so the others can hear him if something happens, but Derek is constantly at his side now, only leaving when necessary. 

 

            Stiles is groomed and cuddled and the others are constantly bringing him food and trying to attend to his needs. Even Theoderek looks nervous. Derek is by far the worst worrier though. He’s frantic and on edge and Stiles has long since noticed that he’s acquired the habit of ringing his hands together.

 

            Stiles throws the covers off of him and moves to get up.

 

            “Where are you going?” Derek demands, voice slightly hysteric and Stiles throws him a look.

 

            “To the bathroom…which is like six feet away…”

 

            Derek sighs and nods, plumping up the pillows just the way Stiles likes before settling again. 

 

            Two minutes later, Stiles comes out with a dazed look on his face, and Derek sits up, nose catching a familiar scent…

            

            “I think something’s wrong.” Stiles whispers in fear, and Derek sees the red that stains his fingers. 

 

            It’s blood. Stiles’ blood.

 

            Derek bolts up, managing to catch his mate before he hits the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

            “What’s wrong?” Derek demanded, sounding panicked and frightened. He gently placed Stiles back on the bed, looking back at his mother. Talia stared at him with wide, almost frantic eyes, and that scared Derek even more. She ignored the question, turning to Peter to bark out instructions.

 

            “I need hot water, now!” Peter ran down the hall, Cora’s terrified face filling the doorway.

 

            “Cora, get me some bandages.” The younger girl rushed to do what she was told. 

 

            “Salina?! I need towels!” Talia was keeping them functioning by giving them small tasks, but Derek was left to drown in his stagnation. 

 

            What was happening? What was going on?

 

            “Laura? Get me my medical kit from my room!”

 

            Peter came in with the hot water and Talia went into the room’s adjoining bathroom to wash her hands. When she came back, both Laura and Cora were in the room as well, Valerie stood off in the hallway next to Theoderek and Salina, a stack of clean towels clenched in her trembling hands.

 

            They all watched as Talia put gloves on. 

 

            “Pull the blankets off, Peter. Derek? Remove Stiles’ clothing, I need to see.” She explained, and they both moved quickly, their wolves letting out broken off whines and whimpers of distress.

 

            The smell of blood filled the room, and a shiver passed through the pack. It smelled almost like death.

 

            They all watched as Talia climbed onto the bed with Stiles, her hands steady as she shoved his knees up, gloved fingers searching for the problem. Her hand came away bloody, and her eyes told of just how scared she really was.

 

            “Mom?” Derek demanded when she stayed quiet for too long.

 

            “He’s bleeding out.” She said, turning to Cora. “I need those bandages.” 

 

            Derek sees it then. There’s blood steadily pooling beneath Stiles…so much blood.

 

            Talia uses the hot water and bandages to soak up all the red, adding pressure that makes Stiles’ eyes fly open as he regains consciousness. He sobs in pain, and Derek is staying motionless because that is a cry of the dying. He is unable to look away. Unable to _do_ anything.

 

            “Derek!” Talia yells, snapping him out of immobility. “There isn’t time for you to break down, we have to make a decision and we have to do it fast!”

 

            “What’s happening?” Derek whispered, sounding small and lost.

 

            “The placenta has detached.” She says, gathering supplies as she goes. Derek watches in horror as she picks up a scalpel.

 

            “What are you doing?”

 

            “He’s going through a placental abruption, which means the babies aren’t getting any oxygen. They’re stuck, and we have to cut them out or they’ll die.”

 

            Stiles makes a desperate sounding noise, trying to hold it in by biting his lip. Derek’s hand goes to his drenched forehead, attempting to soothe. 

 

            “Will he be okay?” He whispers, voice trembling. Talia’s eyes glaze over with sudden moisture and Derek’s heart clenches.

 

            “He’s hemorrhaging, Derek. If I cut him open to get to the twins…there’s a chance he’ll bleed out in minutes before I can do anything to stop it.”

 

            Stiles lets out another pained sob and Derek grips him tighter while his eyes swim with his own agony. 

 

            “But…there’s got to be something else we can do…we can’t just-“

 

            “Derek! We’re running out of time. He’s losing too much blood as it is.” 

 

            She’s right. The smell is so poignant he can almost taste it.

 

            “Derek?”

 

            “Mom!” Derek yells, cutting through the intense desperation of the moment. He can’t make rash decisions. Not with Stiles. “I can’t lose him.” He begs, and Talia is nodding in understanding.

 

            “You’re going to lose all three of them if we don’t do something.” She whispers, and Derek’s wolf lets out a whine, joined by the others in the pack.

 

            He turns back to Stiles, skin turning pale with blood loss. He’s trembling but his body is steadily getting weaker, finding even that to be a chore. His once radiant golden-brown eyes are now dull, and lackluster, staring fixedly at the light in the ceiling while his body convulses in intervals. 

 

            Derek’s eyes offer up overflowing tears as he kisses Stiles’ gently over his cold-feeling lips, the warmth flowing out of him along with his life force.

 

            “I want you to bite him.” He says turning to his mother. Talia looks at him with hesitation.

 

            “Do you understand what you’re asking?” She demands, and Derek nods.

 

            “If the bite takes, he’ll be able to heal.”

 

            “And if it doesn’t?” She asks. “I don’t need to remind you about what happened to Paige.”

 

            “No, you don’t” Derek agreed. “There’s no time left. Either you bite him, and he lives, or his body rejects it and he dies. But if we do nothing, I lose them all.”

 

            Talia didn’t move.

 

            “Please, mom.” Derek begged. “I _can’t_ lose him…we have to try.”

 

            Talia nodded, moving over to Stiles’ right side as Derek stayed on his left.

 

            “Talk to him.” She encouraged. “Keep him conscious.”

 

            “Stiles?” Derek asked, hands roaming over his mate’s cheeks. Stiles’ eyes fluttered, blinking away from the light as he tried to focus on Derek. There were tears caught in his lashes.

 

            “Something’s not right.” Stiles slurred in exhaustion, and Derek forced his despair down when Stiles’ face crumbled in pain and agony. “I can _feel it_.”

 

            “I know, love. I know.” He whispered softly, leaning down close till their foreheads touched. “We’re going to try and fix it. But you have to stay with me.” He pleaded, tears leaking from his eyes to fall onto Stiles’ pale-white cheeks. “You have to _want_ to stay. You have to fight…just a little longer. Can you do that for me?” 

 

            Stiles whimpered, lids sliding closed. 

 

            “Stiles!” Derek yelled, watching as Stiles’ eyes flashed open, pupils dilating. His gaze connected strongly with Derek’s and he nodded. 

 

            “Wanna…stay.” He wheezed, and Derek felt a trembling smile tug on his lips.

 

            “Stay with me.” Derek repeated on a barely there breath, looking over at his mother and giving a nod.

 

            Stiles cried out when Talia’s teeth sunk into his inner elbow as deep as they could go. Deeper than Derek had _ever_ gone before. Derek held him, petting his hair and trying desperately to keep him calm. 

 

Even though Talia had been careful to avoid veins and arteries, Stiles still bled profusely when he was released. 

 

            Time stood still, and they all watched avidly with bated breath and desperation.

 

            “It’s not working.” Derek said frantically into the sudden silence, feeling Stiles slip into unconsciousness in his arms. “It’s not working.” He repeated in utter despair.

 

            “Wait.” Talia demanded, eyes still riveted to Stiles’ dying body.

 

            Derek held Stiles closer, holding on as he felt his muscles twitch and spasm fitfully. 

 

            “He’s going into shock!”

 

            “ _Wait_!” Talia ordered, and Derek was forced to remain still while Stiles died in his arms. 

 

             The other wolves in the room cried, in sorrow, but Talia quieted them with a held up hand that signaled silence. 

 

            “Listen.” She said, and they all did as they were told. “Hear his heartbeat?”

 

            Derek tracked the sound, not even daring to breathe as he focused. Stiles’ heartbeat had weakened considerably…but it was steadily getting louder.

 

            Stronger.

 

            “It’s working.” Laura whispered, and Derek felt his own heart stutter in response. The bite on Stiles’ arm was closing up before his very eyes, and just beneath his mate’s fluttering lids he could see the bright-glowing gold that signified a beta. 

 

            “He’ll heal, but we can’t wait anymore.” Talia said, once more grabbing her scalpel. “We need to get the twins out now.”

 

            She positioned the blade just below Stiles’ swollen abdomen, careful not to add too much pressure.

 

            “Derek, you’re gonna need to hold him down. He can’t move, or I’ll risk cutting too deep.”

 

            Derek nodded, climbing up on the bed and positioning himself behind his mate so that Stiles was resting against his chest. His golden irises focused just as Talia sliced steadily with practiced ease.

 

            Stiles screamed a howl of agony, and Derek cried out in distress with him as he held his trembling form immobile. He watched in horror as the incision his mother just made tried to close up. Talia was forced to cut again, hand reaching inside, struggling to pull out the first baby.

 

            “Towel.” She said when she got a good grip, and Laura held the towel Valerie had given her aloft.

 

            Derek kept Stiles still as he made a continuous string of whimpering noises, watching as his mother pulled out their first child. He doesn’t have time to take in any details before Talia is passing the newborn to Laura. Salina moves to take her place, holding a towel of her own. 

 

            Distantly Derek hears the wail of crying baby, which is drowned out by Stiles’ scream as his sealing wound is reopened. Derek holds on tighter, feeling Stiles’ fingers grip his arm, newly formed claws sinking in to anchor himself. 

 

            The second child is pulled free, and Stiles sinks down into Derek, collapsing and panting while Derek cradles him. 

 

            Salina hands Talia her towel, and she wraps it around the second baby. 

 

            “The first one is a girl.” Salina tells them with tearful eyes. “You just had a boy.”

 

            “He’s not crying.” Stiles whispers on a barely there breath, looking beyond exhausted as his body heals and he struggles to stay conscious. “Why isn’t he crying?”

 

            Talia isn’t answering. She rubs the baby’s chest, tapping gently over the heart as she mutters aloud.

 

            “Come on.” She whispers. “Come on, breathe.”

            

            Stiles whimpers, and Derek buries his face in his neck, feeling everyone else in the room holding their breath.

 

            Talia keeps at it. Gently rubbing the newborn and creating friction, tapping the heart. The baby shudders and lets out a shrieking scream. 

 

            Everybody breathes again, letting out relieved laughs as they cry and grip one another. Derek’s fingers seek Stiles’ hand, and he kisses him gently, interlacing their fingers while Stiles gives him a weakened squeeze.

 

            “You did so well.” He praises, murmuring more compliments to his barely coherent mate. “You’re amazing. So strong. Jesus Stiles, don’t ever scare me like that again…”

 

            Stiles smiles softly before he lets the exhaustion take him.

 

            The only thing that keeps Derek calm is being able to hear his steady heartbeat.

 

            His mother places his newborn son in his arms and Laura comes close with his daughter. They’ve settled somewhat, no longer wailing, making confused cooing noises instead. Derek is overwhelmed. His whole family is here. His children are born, and Stiles is alive.  

 

            He can’t stop the joyful laugh that escapes past his lips, his pack joining in with him as they take in the new additions to the family.

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles is slow to wake, but when he does the first thing he sees is Derek pacing back and forth while he cradles one of the twins. 

 

            His hearing is sharp enough that he can easily pick out the song Derek is humming just under his breath. He can easily see the old tear tracks that stain Derek’s cheeks, a deep flush spreading over his skin. He can _feel_ Derek’s pride, and love, and every other emotion that bounces off of him. It’s almost too much at once-

 

            “You’re awake?” Derek whispers softly and Stiles’ eyes flash to his. 

 

            “Are they okay?” He asks, voice torn and shredded, but Derek understands and nods as he gets closer. 

 

            “This is our son.” He introduces, and Stiles was so sure he’d cried every tear his body could produce, but he surprises himself by crying all over again. “He doesn’t seem to want to go to sleep. Not like his sister at all, who passed out an hour ago.”

 

            Derek gently transfers him into Stiles’ waiting arms. Stiles is an awe of him. He’s so small and his tiny little fingers latch onto Stiles’ lips. His fingernails are the size of ants and Stiles can’t take his eyes away from him. The baby’s lids flutter, and he almost gasps. 

 

            “He has your eyes.” He whispers, taking in the newborn’s irises. The color will mature with age, but he can already see a perfect replica of Derek’s forest-green eyes.

 

            “And she has yours.” Derek says, placing their daughter securely in Stiles’ other arm. She gurgles, lids fluttering to show Stiles that familiar shade of golden-brown. It’s surreal.

 

            “What should we name them?” Derek asks, bending low to place a kiss on Stiles’ brow.

 

            “I can’t decide.” Stiles whispered, eyeing their children in awe. He turned back to Derek. “What do you think?”

 

            Derek smiled softly. “Well, for the boy…how about Dorian?” Stiles chuckled softly, giving Derek an amused look. 

 

            “You mean after _The Portrait of Dorian Gray_?” 

 

            Derek nodded.

 

            “You know that it didn’t end well for him.”

 

            “Our son will be different.” Derek said firmly, giving his mate a smile which Stiles returned happily.

 

            “I like that, actually. Dorian Hale. It has a nice ring to it.”

 

            “Dorian Stilinski-Hale.” Derek corrected, and Stiles’ smile widened. 

 

            “And for the girl?” He asked, eyes landing on her sleeping face.

 

            “Well,” Derek sighed, taking in a deep breath. “I was thinking Claudia, after your mother.”

 

            Stiles’ eyes shot back up to Derek’s, brightening with moisture as tears collected on his lids and fell. 

 

            “Really?” He asked quietly, and Derek moved forward to soothe him. 

 

            “Really.” He whispered, kissing the tears away.

 

* * *

 

 

            Everyone comes to visit. Stiles’ dad tears up when he sees his grandchildren, and it only gets worse when he proceeds to tell him their names. He stays for hours, only leaving when it gets close to his shift. 

 

            Scott comes, and he can’t stop saying the same thing over and over again.

 

            “This is _so_ cool.” He whispers in awe. “I mean…look at them. They’re really real.” 

 

            Stiles gives an exhausted laugh and Derek shakes his head. 

 

            Theoderek is beyond pleased, and he coddles his grandson while Talia snuggles her granddaughter. 

 

            “You did well, son. The both of you.” He tells them, and Stiles burrows deeper into Derek’s side as he watches the exchange. 

 

            “I want one.” Cora coos when Talia passes her the girl. 

 

            “Not right now you don’t.” Theoderek muttered and Cora scrunched her face up at him.

 

            “I’ll just steal one of Derek’s.” She says and Derek rumbles out a tired laugh. 

 

            “I’d like to see you try and walk out of this _room_ with one.” 

 

            Stiles snarls at the idea, even though he knows it’s a joke, and he looks slightly mortified.

 

            “Sorry.” He says sheepish. “Still getting used to the whole werewolf thing.”

 

            “You’ve been through so much in such a short while.” Talia says quietly. “We should let you rest.”

 

            “No.” Stiles protests. “Stay. I don’t mind.” He really doesn’t, and more people slink into the room.

 

            “Let me see him.” Peter says, taking Dorian from Theoderek as he holds him between his arms and Salina’s.

 

            “He has Derek’s eyes.” He comments, Salina nodding at the observation. Cora passes Claudia to Laura and she’s beside herself with how cute she is.

 

            “Her hair is dark like Derek’s, but she looks more like Stiles.”

 

            “They aren’t identical.” Valerie notes. “At least you won’t get confused like we did with Zoey and Chloe. We could only tell them apart by scent at first.”

 

            Lily is giggling over the way Claudia has latched onto her finger. “She has a tight grip.”

 

            “So does he.” Peter grins, making honest-to-god kissy noises down at Dorian.

 

            “They’re perfect.” Stiles whispers, and Derek kisses him in agreement.

 

* * *

 

 

            When they bring their children home to the loft, it feels kind of ridiculous.

 

            “We’re looking for a house, starting tomorrow.” Derek growls, and Stiles is in full agreement.

 

            “Somewhere close to the rest of the pack.” He says, understanding the need for other wolves for the first time.

 

            “I like that plan.” Derek breathes into Stiles’ mouth, pulling his mate into his arms. “Our family has a lot of land. We can even build our own home nearby.” 

 

            Stiles hums in approval at the idea, staring down at the twins with astonished wonder. 

 

            “I can’t believe we did that.” He whispers and Derek lets out a rumbling growl in agreement. 

 

            “You did all the work.” He admits, and Stiles grins up at him. 

 

            “You helped a bit too.” He chuckles softly. “It would’ve been an impossible feat without your contribution.”

 

            Derek nips playfully at his shoulder, and Stiles mewls in content, Derek’s mark is still clear on his shoulder. Something even his new werewolf powers couldn’t erase.

 

* * *

 

 

            Talia readily watches the twins during Stiles’ first full moon, which Derek uses to try and teach him control.

 

            “I can feel it.” Stiles grits out, his eyes are a constant shade of brilliant gold now, flashing like fire. Derek’s own orbs glow electric-blue.

 

            “Just stay with me.” Derek says steadily, feeling the pull of the moon. “Remember what I told you? About finding an anchor?”

 

            “You’re my anchor.” Stiles claims as his answer, and Derek’s hands grip his mate’s arms. 

 

            “Then let me ground you. You don’t have to succumb to anger and rage. We’re predators. We don’t have to be killers.”

 

            “I feel like I’m drowning-“

 

            “You’re not.” Derek soothes. “You don’t have to be scared. I’ve got you.”

 

            Stiles’ fangs extend, and he groans into the unfamiliar sensation. 

 

            “Derek?” He says on a panicked whisper, but Derek quiets him.

 

            “I’m right here, love. Not gonna let anything happen to you.”

 

            “Is it always like this?”

 

            Derek shakes his head. “It’ll get easier. I promise.”

 

            “What happens if I can’t learn how to control it?”

 

            Derek smiles at him. “You already are, Stiles. The moon is at its peak.”

 

            Stiles swallows thickly and shakes his head. “Only because you’re here. What happens when I’m alone?”

 

            “You’ll never be alone.” Derek answered with conviction.

 

            “Distract me?” Stiles begs, and Derek yanks him forward, his wolf excited by the prospect of being with its mate on the night of the full moon for the first time.

 

            Stiles sinks into the kiss, their fangs catching on delicate skin, drawing blood before flesh knits itself back together again.

 

            Stiles’ claws scratch down Derek’s back, and Derek arches into the treatment, growling into Stiles’ open mouth as he laps up the sound. 

 

            “I can feel… _everything_.” Stiles breathes out, and Derek pulls him into his lap, tearing clothes and yanking fabric until they’re both bare. 

 

            “Not everything. Not yet.” Derek snarls, knocking his mate off of him to land on the ground. Stiles uses his newly acquired reflexes to catch himself, but Derek flips him onto his stomach easily, pulling him up till he’s on his hands and knees. 

 

            Outside the huge windows in the loft, the full moon looks down at them, and Stiles feels as if his skin is constricting. 

 

            “Need you now.” He begs, and Derek tears off the rest of their clothes and rams into him from behind. Stiles moans into the treatment, feeling more animal then human as they rut together.

 

            Derek bites him savagely with his lengthened fangs, and Stiles actually howls at the moon, feeling his come shoot out to land on the floor. Derek pounds into him faster, teeth still anchored inside Stiles’ flesh. 

 

            Derek growls, eyes turning into a deeper shade of sapphire as he knots his mate. Stiles writhes on it, feeling the intensity of another orgasm.

 

            “Shh.” Derek’s wolf soothes. “It’s not over. We have all night. We have forever.” 

 

            Stiles shivers at the promise.

 

* * *

 

 

            “It’s your turn.” Stiles mumbles when the distinct sound of Dorian’s cry reaches them, followed instantly by Claudia’s. 

 

            “You said that the last time.” Derek complains, voice filled with sleep. “And the time before that.”

 

            “I carried them for nine months…so I plan on using that against you for a _long while_.” 

 

            “You’re terrible.” Derek seethes, pushing the covers aside to get out of bed. Stiles pulls him back down, slanting their mouths together in a deep kiss.

 

            “I’ll help.” He offers graciously. “The faster we put them back down, the sooner we can come back to bed.”

 

            “Tired?” Derek asks in concern, and Stiles’ eyes flash gold before giving him a seductive grin. 

 

            “Not anymore.” He says cattily, hands trailing down Derek’s body.

 

            “I like the sound of that.” Derek whispered, hands coming up to cradle Stiles’ face. 

 

            “I can tell.” Stiles answered back just as softly, grinning into his mate’s open mouth.

 

            “What are we waiting for then?” Derek whispers, and Stiles releases him to move towards Claudia’s crib, picking her up to rub soothingly along her back. 

 

            “You always go for her because she falls asleep faster.” Derek accuses and Stiles chuckles at him. 

 

            “Do you not have any faith in your lulling abilities?”

 

            “You’re no fair.” He mutters, picking up Dorian to cradle him to his chest.

 

            “That’s not how we play.” Stiles answers, throwing Derek’s words back at him. Derek smiles in affection, and leans over to pull his mate into a slow, deep kiss.

 

            In this moment, surrounded by his family…

 

            Derek is content.

 

            

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love my darlings!


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